


Inevitable

by MeadowWard



Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 93,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeadowWard/pseuds/MeadowWard
Summary: It wasn’t like breathing or trembling or fire. It was none of the things other people had described to her, and it was somehow more than what she’d been told to expect. For her, it was like a curtain of silence had been drawn around the two of them. The hush was so heavy she felt like she could part it with her hand as her eyes locked with His.He shot to his feet almost as quickly as she did, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should’ve heard the sound of his chair clattering to the floor, but she heard nothing. Just that thick silence, as heavy as a cloud that hung over them punctured only by the melody of her timer and the repeated beep of his.The silence faded when Officer Bradford -her training officer and, apparently, her soulmate- uttered a single word that everyone in the roll call heard, but Lucy loudest of all.“Shit.”~TiMER soulmate AU for Chenford/Tucy
Relationships: Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Comments: 219
Kudos: 513





	1. Whomever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hello  
> I love you  
> Won't you tell me your name?"  
> \- "Hello, I Love You", The Doors

She wished it were just jitters. At least _jitters_ she could explain away. Chalk it up to nerves about starting her rookie year tomorrow, pop a cherry-flavored melatonin, and get some much needed sleep before beginning.. well, before beginning. But it wasn’t just a simple case of the jitters, and it was so much more than nerves.

Lucy blinked once, her eyes briefly losing focus on the thin clear strip implanted into her left wrist. She’d had it since childhood, got it installed as a present on her fourteenth birthday. She had checked the dial faithfully before bed, upon waking, and throughout the day without fail over the past fourteen years. Now at 28, she’d lived half of her life with it on her wrist. Her timer, counting down the years, months, days, and hours until she met her soulmate, or so the brochure guaranteed. In the natural, it was basically just a clock. In the abstract, it represented Him. Her Whomever, wherever he was, and the promise that someday in the far -and then near, and then approaching so rapidly her excitement became anxiety- future, she would meet him.

It was 11:58 pm. She was two minutes away from zeroing out. The timer would chime at midnight and again when she first saw her soulmate.  
Of all the other rookies in her class at the police academy, most had timers, but manyhad met their soulmates by now. Out of the three that were headed to Mid-Wilshire for their rookie training (herself included), only one other had reached zero. Jackson was one of the few people her age who didn’t have a timer; he was so certain of his future as a cop that he declined getting one when he reached the earliest installation age, thinking it would be easier to go undercover without a timer. He was probably right. Nolan was older and still sported one of the earlier models of the timer on his left wrist, though it had gone off years ago and now emitted a faint green glow from behind a row of zeros. He told her his hadn’t chimed, it beeped, and he about shit himself when it went off because the sound was so unexpected. He’d met his match in college. A woman named Grace, he said, but it didn’t work out at the time. There was more to the story, but Lucy had never pressed him for more details. His expression when saying his soulmate’s name - a combination of pensive, wistful, and grieved- told her everything she needed to know.

One minute left.

She wondered what would happen when she saw him. How it would feel. Lucy couldn’t get straight answers from anyone she asked… although to be fair, her pool to sample from was pitifully small; there were only so many people she felt comfortable asking as she was a little worried about being teased for even wondering. Nolan said it felt like his first breath. Like he’d been held under water his whole life until his eyes landed on Grace. Her mother had said she shivered for days when she first saw Lucy’s father, and for his part her father had described a feeling like flames on the side of his head (although it’s possible he was pulling her leg with that answer, because wasn’t that a quote from “Clue”? ). She hoped her own reaction would be more muted. Imagining anything too dramatic might make her first day on the job… that much more awkward, if not totally unbearable.

Zero.

The counter chimed, a pretty ascending melody only five notes long, and turned green.

Tomorrow- today, now- she’d know.

~

She hadn’t counted on her car breaking down on her way to her first ever roll call. 

It was fine. Really. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Her car had broken down before, and she always managed to maneuver her to safety. She tried not to sweat it, tried to stay positive. This was going to be a great day for more than one reason. This wasn't going to get her down. Not if she had anything to say about it.

“Hey Mama. That’s a nice ride.”

With no small amount of reluctance (and a whispered "are you serious"), Lucy looked up. Thank God her timer stayed quiet, not even hinting at a chime. He was decidedly Not Whomever. She wasn’t above admitting relief that her timer hadn’t gone off for… this guy.

“Yea. Thanks.”

He took a step closer, lifting his shirt to reveal a gun tucked behind his belt. “Think I’m gonna have to take it off your hands.”

Seriously? Disbelief made her laugh. “This car? The car that broke down two blocks ago?”

“Could take you for a spin, too.”

Lucy didn’t consider it unprofessional to relish revealing herself as a cop just before disarming and cuffing- what was it he called himself when she asked? Oh yeah. _Blaze_. Marching him into the booking area before hitting the locker room, she felt pretty damn proud of herself, and the feeling lasted one whole minute before giving way to nerves again, followed soon by the addition of dread as a new revelation dawned on her. For all her planning and daydreaming, she hadn’t considered the possibility that her soulmate could be a criminal. What if she met Whomever while pulling him over for a DUI, or a drug bust, or worse?

No, she said to herself as she rolled her hair into a low bun. No, there was no way her soulmate would do any of those things. She refused to think otherwise, not until (and frankly, _unless_ ) she absolutely had to. As it was, she did think of Nolan, of his soulmate, and what he might have meant by “didn’t work out”. She supposed there could be worse things than being matched to a criminal, although she would still hold out hope for someone with no record. The nerves were full-on butterflies now. She hoped no one noticed. If she couldn’t quite make herself smile at Nolan and Jackson as they took their seats at the front of the room for roll call, she’d blame it on her car breaking down and hope that would be enough for them. She doubted anyone but those two would be paying enough attention to notice something was off with her.

There was a low level of chatter among the officers that hushed as soon as the sergeant walked in. Sergeant Grey was a distinguished looking man who addressed his team in a voice that, while stern, Lucy found comforting. She appreciated a no-nonsense approach to the job, and Grey didn’t strike her as either a hard-ass or soft. He first made the rookies stand at attention, admonishing them to prove themselves, follow protocol, and honor tradition. All things she’d heard before countless time at the academy, but her chest swelled with pride as he spoke to them. After agreeing to this order he allowed them to return to their seats, at which point he began the task of assigning the three to their officers.

“The training officer match game. Our contestants are legacy Jackson West, who broke all his dad’s records at the academy. Lucy Chen,” she felt a blush spring to her cheeks hearing her name, “ a hotshot who made her first arrest this morning before clocking in, and John Nolan, a rookie who has the unique distinction of being born before disco died.” The amount of laughter this dig received almost made Lucy feel bad for Nolan.

“And the winners are: Officer Lopez, you get our legacy. Officer Bishop, disco fever. Leaving Officer Bradford to ride with our hotshot.”

She should’ve waited to turn until dismissal. It was the polite thing to do, to wait to look at her training officer until Sergeant Grey called an end to the meeting. He clearly had a small speech prepared, no doubt with little wisdoms peppered throughout, imploring the rookies and the rest of his team to do good and be smart. Lucy heard none of these remarks, though, because she peeked.

She peeked, and her eyes immediately landed on Whomever.

It wasn’t like breathing or trembling or fire. It was none of the things other people had described to her, and it was somehow more than what she’d been told to expect. For her, it was like a curtain of silence had been drawn around the two of them. The hush was so heavy she felt like she could part it with her hand as her eyes locked with His.

Blue. His eyes were blue, and if someone had asked her then, she might have said something stupid. Something like blue was her favorite color, even though until this morning (or hell, before this _second_ ) it was olive green. Despite her seat being several feet away, she could see his face in perfect clarity, bright eyes set into tanned skin, fine lines forming next to them and in creases around his mouth. She wondered how many of those lines were from laughing, from frowning, from worry. The desire to run the tips of her fingers down each one came on in a rush so strong she jumped to her feet before suppressing it. She couldn't touch him, no matter how she suddenly ached to. He was… well, he was handsome, there was simply no other way to put it. His disinterested expression, his slouch, every bit of his stoicism all faded when her eyes landed on his face, and she knew then that he was seeing her, too. Seeing her, and feeling this. He shot to his feet almost as quickly as she did, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should’ve heard the sound of his chair clattering to the floor, but she heard nothing. Just that thick silence, as heavy as a cloud that hung over them punctured only by the melody of her timer and the repeated beep of his.

It was only seconds. It had to have only been seconds.

It just felt like more.

The silence faded when Officer Bradford -her training officer and, apparently, her soulmate- uttered a single word that everyone in the roll call heard, but Lucy loudest of all.

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing for The Rookie/Chenford! I'm a sucker for AUs, especially soulmate AUs. This TiMER AU will be based off seasons 1 and 2 of The Rookie (up until episode 2x12) and the 2009 movie of the same name where people can have timers implanted on their wrists that count down to the second that they meet the love of their life. I own neither, but of course you knew that. Please review if you feel so inclined! Thank you!


	2. Nice to Meet You, Now Go Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There's walls around the walls around my heart  
> Oh I'm too scared to finish what you start  
> I can hear you whisper, let me in  
> While my heart's screaming, don't go there again"  
> \- "This Isn't Gonna End Well", John Paul White

Roll call ended pretty quickly after her timer went off, and for that, Lucy was grateful. It wasn’t so much that chaos had broken out over a TO and his rookie being matched. The reaction was relatively controlled, mostly chuckles hidden behind hands, but Lucy was keenly aware of the scrutiny of her superiors; no longer just Tim, everyone was now looking at her. A few of the more seasoned officers were openly smirking. Lopez and Bishop- the other TOs- looked surprised… but Lopez, in spite of her shock, almost appeared pleased. She crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair and nodded once in Lucy’s direction, then swatted playfully at Tim’s arm.

That little smack was enough to snap Tim out of… whatever this was that came over the both of them. A daze, Lucy decided, was the most accurate word for it. He was at her side in a flash, taking her by the arm before rushing her out of the room. A few rogue whoops and wolf whistles did make it to her ears before they were out, followed soon after by Sergeant Grey chiding the remaining officers to settle down.

Tim’s hand on her elbow, even through the dark wool fabric of her uniform, felt like it could burn clear through to her skin. A white hot heat warmed her to the bone where he held her, but it wasn’t painful. Were these the flames her dad had mentioned? It wasn’t as unbearable as he made it sound. Actually, it was kind of nice. The kind of touch she could see herself seeking on breezy summer evenings, on warm spring mornings. She could see herself reaching blindly for his hand between cotton blankets at night.

Not that she was already thinking of going to bed with him. No, no, absolutely not. It was less a train of thought and more a… she didn’t want to say premonition, as it felt like a glimpse. Not so much a daydream as looking through a window. A peek into a future that now seemed more possible than ever before.

“Thanks for getting me out of there.” Lucy said to Tim as he shut the door to the office behind them.

He scoffed. “I didn’t do it for you, Boot. I did it because Grey said so.”

Oh. “I must have missed him saying that.”

“Yea, must have.” He walked to the other side of the room, leaving space between them, and looked out toward the bullpen. The rest of the officers were dispersing. John and Jackson gave small waves as they walked by, making Tim look back at her. Their eyes locked again and once more her breath came to a stuttering halt. He gazed for only a moment or two before thinking better of it, breaking away with a shake of his head. She wanted to say something, but words seemed useless at the moment. None of the things she had planned to say to her soulmate made it to her lips, dying in her throat before she could utter a single one. Not that any of them would have fit now, anyway. Things like “it’s you” or “I’ve been waiting for this moment” seemed trite now with him in front of her. Trite, plain, and honestly pretty lacking, and even though they’d just met she got the distinct impression that he wouldn’t appreciate her sentiments much less return them. In fact, he seemed annoyed by the whole ordeal instead of excited, which dampened her own thrill as effectively as a gallon of water being poured on a campfire. It was lucky that Grey came in not long after, saving them both from this length of awkwardness.

Although most of his expression was inscrutable, Sergeant Grey’s eyes betrayed his amusement at the turn of events. In another setting, he might have laughed. As it was, he held it together, waiting to address either of them until he shut the door. Lucy stood at silent attention as he spoke to them.

“Well,” he began at last, “on the one hand, Mazel Tov.” Turning, he walked toward his desk, letting the folder with today’s meeting notes drop with a slap. “On the other, not sure what the hell to do with either of you now. No real protocol on this sort of thing, although I suppose we can invoke certain ‘fraternization among officers’ standards if we really need to.”

“Sir? If I may?” Officer Bradford interrupted before the sergeant could get much farther ahead of them with his decision.

“… You may.”

“I can promise that the fact our timers say we’re a match will have no impact whatsoever on my ability to train Officer Chen. No offense.” Tim glanced at her quickly, avoiding eye contact. “I’m sure you’re a nice girl,” then he looked back at Sergeant Grey, “but I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Didn’t believe in soulmates? _Huh? What?_ “But… you have a timer.” she said to Tim.

He continued to face forward as he answered her. “And you have your ears pierced. So we both know a little something about body modification.” To the sergeant he said, “Sir, I can guarantee-”

“Wait a second.” She held her hand up just a few inches in front of her as she turned towards Tim. “I’m a grown woman, okay? Not a girl, so I’d appreciate it if you kept that in mind when you’re talking to me or about me. Secondly, if you didn’t believe in soulmates, why did you get a soulmate timer? A lot of effort for something you don’t think is real.”Of all the things she’d anticipated happening, she never imagined her timer going off would end with her speaking so very out of turn on her first day… and to her training officer, in front of the sergeant no less, but once she got going Lucy couldn’t stop.

Sure, it was not the time or place for this conversation, and technically she was mouthing off to a superior, but she’d hope she’d receive a small measure of grace for having her world rocked by two pretty big revelations in less than ten minutes.

Also, she really hated being called girl. What in the patronizing fuck was _that_?

“I don’t have to explain my decisions to anyone, _least_ of all you, Boot.”

His complete lack of a real answer did not put her off pushing farther, though she did her best to keep her tone light. If he was going to be dismissive, she was determined to sound unbothered. “Can I ask what your plan was, sir? Were you just going to let your timer zero out, have a laugh at your match’s expense, then go about your day like it was nothing?”

That remark made Tim turn to face her fully, squaring up to her with a scowl. When he spoke, it was low and soft, but then again he didn’t strike her as the type that needed to let his voice boom in order to convey his anger. “I am not having this conversation with you right now.” Without saying more, he made it clear that she was on shaky ground.

They stared each other down, neither retreating, neither breaking. Lucy was tempted to look away a few times, but she guessed the second she did he’d hold that against her, too.Gone was the wonder of earlier moments, the curiosity, the interest. They were still feeling each other out and probably would be doing so for a few more days at least, but it was clear they were nearing the end of first impressions being formed. The initial impression of Tim Bradford was- who her soulmate was- began to solidify in her mind.

_He’s kind of a dick._

“Well, here’s how I see it.” Grey said, and they both looked toward him, the stalemate between them passing if only for the moment. The sergeant looked at Lucy as he leveled with her. “Officer Bradford is one hell of a TO, and if he says this won’t be an obstacle, I’m inclined to trust him. Unless _you_ think this is going to be a problem.” Folding his arms over his chest, Grey asked, “Is this going to be a problem, Chen?”

From the corner of her field of vision she saw Tim watching her, waiting for her to respond. Lucy sensed he was expecting her to bail out and demand another training officer. Swap with Nolan, perhaps. It would be a strike against her on her first day (if she somehow managed to make it out of this little side-bar totally unscathed, that was). Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her failing right out of the gate. Gritting her teeth, she shook her head. “No, sir. It won’t be a problem.”

“Perfect. Operate as planned for the next few days. I’ll speak with the captain and see what she thinks. If she decides it necessary, we’ll discuss changing up the assignments.” And then Grey dismissed them.

It took a lot of restraint not to run from the office, but Lucy refrained and followed Tim out, mimicking his pace as she took up behind him by just a few feet. He walked quickly. For every one of his strides, Lucy had to take three.

“Keep up, Boot.” he called over his shoulder without looking.

Thanks to their impromptu meeting with Grey, they got a little later start on the streets than the other rookies, something that managed to sour Tim’s mood even more. He quickly walked her through the protocols for getting the war bags, setting up the shop, and using her body cam. Everything he said to her was framed as an order, all delivered in an intense rapid-fire manner. She was expected to follow instructions within seconds of their delivery, but then he also snapped at her to take notes, and she could hardly do both well at the same time no matter his expectations.

He played at small talk to catch her off-guard before slamming on the breaks and pretending to be shot. Her first test, followed soon after by a test concerning Spanish-speaking civilians. She succeeded in catching and restraining a middle-aged dad having a nervous breakdown, but it didn’t undo the failures from before, and Tim was only too happy to make sure she didn’t forget it.

Then he made her buy him lunch.

Lucy was exhausted by the time they took their break. She wondered how much trouble she’d get in if she laid her head down at the table for a power nap.

“I think someone could use a hug.” Jackson said as he and Nolan joined her in line at one of the food trucks. 

“Don’t touch me.” She didn’t typically snap at Jackson or John, so they were both taken aback.

“Whoa. What’s wrong?” Nolan asked.

Telling them everything that had gone poorly would take up the whole lunch hour, so “This is not how I wanted this day to go,” is what she settled on.

Jackson said to Nolan in a conspiratorial whisper, “I can’t tell if this is work trouble or boy trouble.”

“In her case, it’s probably both.” They looked at her, judging her reaction before deciding whether it was okay to laugh. Seeing that she was not entertained by their jokes, they smartly avoided even a little chuckle at her expense.

~

Lucy faced no fewer than three more Tim tests during the second half of the afternoon. She didn’t fare better with those, earning herself more disappointed sighs and head-shaking from Tim. She was trying, but attempts alone counted for nothing with him.He would have perfection from her. If her work was not impeccable, he regarded it as worthless.

“Hit the showers, Boot.” He ordered gruffly when they returned to the precinct at the end of their shift. “We’ll do it all again tomorrow, and you better hope to God you do better.”

Wonderful.

She cleaned herself up, thankful to wash off the grime of the day, but no amount of hot water could rinse out how crummy she felt. When she changed back into her civilian clothes , Lucy looked down at her jeans and top with disdain. She’d agonized over this outfit to start the day, wanting to look her very best. Stupidly, _stupidly_ thinking that it would matter what she looked like when she saw Whomever, or that they’d go out for drinks or something after meeting one another. To think she’d dressed this morning with her soulmate in mind. It seemed an awful waste.

Actually… that sort of summed up her whole day. An _awful waste_. Fourteen years of anticipating meeting her soulmate, only to find out he didn’t believe in the concept at all. Half of her life waiting for this day and he couldn’t show less interest in her as a human, but did seem to take great joy in making her feel small and inadequate on the job. She’d been so sure of herself walking in today. Had it only been a few hours since she marched a would-be carjacker through the doors? Less than a day since her timer hit zero? All the hope she’d felt this morning had vanished.

A waste, a waste. What an awful waste.

Her dark mood made her slow to finish changing, so she was one of the last ones from her shift out of the locker room. She was in no rush to get home, having nothing to look forward to as she walked out of the locker room with her head lowered.

To her surprise, Jackson and Nolan had waited for her. Before she could say a word, Nolan spoke.

“It’s been a tough day. We could all probably use a drink. You coming?”

She looked at the faces of her friends, her heart swelling with gratitude, and said yes at once.

~

The combination of alcohol and karaoke managed to improve Lucy’s outlook at least a little, and what the liquor didn’t alleviate, Jackson and Nolan both did their best to fix. She really was so lucky to have these guys on her side. They didn’t ask many questions about her day, either on the job or about her personal drama, keeping the focus on the present as much as possible. There was only one question, really, and it came from Nolan.

“What did he say about being your soulmate?”

Lucy paused, a joyless smile ghosting over her lips. She took a long pull of her beer before answering. “Oh you know… that he doesn’t believe in them.”

Both men winced at her answer. Yeah. That’s how she felt, too. It stung that morning when Tim said it, and it still smarted now. It probably would for a while, but for now she could channel the angst into half-drunk performances of “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” and “Natural Woman”.

The next morning, she walked into the precinct convinced day two would be better. Partially because she was certain it really couldn’t be worse.

She should have learned by now not to bait the universe with sentences like “couldn’t be worse”. It was clear the universe took such statements as a challenge.

It began with Tim saying he’d decided on a punishment for some infraction she’d already forgotten. The punishment? Arresting a repeat offender named “Ghost Head”, who fought back viciously when she tried to restrain him. She tweaked her right shoulder trying to take him down. It took her a few minutes to get him cuffed, and it was luck that she managed to overcome him. She wondered if Tim would’ve stepped in if it looked like the fight was going in Ghost Head’s favor and didn’t like that she couldn’t say for certain that he would have.

Well, if that was the punishment, she was glad to have it behind her and prayed no more was coming down the pike today.

They were making to leave when a woman ran out of the convenience store. She was about Lucy’s height but severely underweight, so thin it looked painful. Her long blonde hair was lank and oily, her face pale. The skin around her eyes was sunken and dark, making her blue irises look extra wide and wild. Lucy pinned her as a drug user almost immediately, though whether she or not she was currently high she couldn’t tell. She wasn’t close enough to make that kind of assessment.

Lucy was mindful to keep one hand on Ghost Head. With the other, she palmed the grip of her gun as the woman approached Tim and demanded they release the dealer.

Tim’s voice was gentle when he spoke; gentle and filled with emotion. He knew the woman, Lucy guessed. “Isabel? It’s me. It’s Tim.” He reached toward her, trying to take her arm, but the woman -Isabel- shrugged out of his grasp.

“Get off of me.” Isabel yelled. Tim’s hands instantly went up in surrender, trying and failing not to upset her more. He continued to speak to her in that soft, easy tone, trying to coax Isabel to do something Lucy couldn’t quite hear. More was said, culminating in some demand that ended in Tim reaching into his pocket and handing Isabel cash before she ran away.

When Tim turned around to look at Lucy, his eyes were red and shining. It made her freeze. He was… crying? She didn’t know what to do, what to say, but it ended up not mattering. Before she could speak, Tim ordered Lucy to release the drug dealer. An arrest she’d literally fought to make, and he was discarding it. She didn’t really have a choice but to listen, un-cuffing Ghost Head before getting in the car.

“What the hell just happened?”

“That was my wife.”

She was asking about Ghost Head, not Isabel, but _wow._ Okay. There weren’t many things Tim could have said that would have shocked her more. He could’ve called her the queen of England and Lucy would’ve felt less surprised. His wife? The same man who made her timer zero out and then said “I don’t believe in soulmates” was married?

Lucy wanted to groan into her hands. Could this get any more complicated?

She had a dozen or more questions, none of which he’d answer, she knew. But she felt him sharing such a revelation was required a response, so she said, “I won’t tell anyone.” And she meant it. She wouldn’t tell anyone that they saw Isabel, or that she was using.

And she certainly wouldn’t tell anyone that they’d let a drug dealer go, just because Isabel had asked Tim to.

Lucy had meant it as an olive branch, a sign to him that he could confide in her and trust that she would have his back. He didn’t seem to take it that way.

“You’re damn right you won’t.” he bit out just as Officer Bishop called for backup. Tim cleared his throat and responded to the call, confirming them as backup, and then they were on their way.

She watched Tim as he drove. Within seconds of answering the call his expression was once again schooled into a mask of stoicism. It was like the exchange at the store hadn’t happened, like his eyes hadn’t been glassy with tears just two minutes before. It scared her how quickly he could turn it on and off.

He gripped the steering wheel with his left hand; with his right, he held the walkie. He wore a thick black watch on his left forearm. The band had slipped down, revealing his zeroed out timer with its faint green glow. His was an older model, more like Nolan’s than her own; thicker, wider, but with a flatter face. She didn’t hide her timer behind a watch like he did. Then again, she hadn’t lived with it as long. She wondered if he was ashamed of it. If that was the case, why didn’t he get it removed? He had been married, and judging by the model had the timer long before he and Isabel were together. No one would have blamed him for getting the timer taken out, and if only he had…

“You’re staring.” he said, interrupting her racing thoughts. Lucy quickly looked away.

“Sorry.”

“…Got something to say, Boot?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“You sure about that?”

“I just… I just didn’t know you were married.” 

HIs hand tightened around the walkie. “Didn’t think it was your business.”

“It’s not.”

“But you feel entitled to know because… why exactly? Because of the timers? Is that it?”

“No, sir. I don’t feel entitled to anything.” And, to an extent, that was true. She didn’t feel like she deserved to know everything about her soulmate. Not all at once, at least; but fourteen years of dreaming was not easily undone, and she ventured to say as much. “I just thought things would be different than they are. Once my timer went off, I mean. I had wanted that for most of my life.” _Wanted you_ was the unspoken implication there. She figured Tim would miss it.

He didn’t. His expression actually softened, lips parting ever so slightly as he inhaled a deep breath. The mask slipped just a little. “I thought things would be different, too.” he said quietly, and it was so full of feeling that Lucy believed him. It only lasted a second, and then Tim cleared his throat. Once again, the switch had been flipped; he was back in TO mode. “Focus up, Boot. Need you sharp for this call.” Then to her astonishment, he added, “But we will talk about this later. I promise.”

~

There was a moment during the call where Lucy worried “later” wouldn’t come.

It was a shootout. She was terrified and didn’t have the time or the headspace to feel it. Didn’t have time, because within seconds of the criminals opening fire Tim had taken a bullet to his torso. She saw the blood spatter among the crushed glass of the driver side window. His moans of pain were etched into her brain, a memory she was sure she’d never be able to erase. Her hands shook as she radioed for help, then hooked her arms under Tim’s and dragged him out of the line of fire.

She didn’t have the headspace to feel afraid because the moment he got hit, her focus was on Tim and Tim alone. Everything else- Selby, her orders, the entire damn department- was a distant second.

“Don’t worry about me! Shoot back!” had been Tim’s order, though it was unconvincing when pierced by his pained groans. Shooting back was easy. Not worrying? Well. That was simply not possible. Especially once she noticed their vehicle had caught fire and she had to drag him to safety once again. Thankfully, Nolan and Bishop were there. Lopez and Jackson arrived not long after. The scene had more than enough cops on it. Consequently, the firefight moved from their location as the criminals ran. After a much needed moment to breathe, Lucy decided to stand guard while waiting for the ambulance.

“Boot, don’t worry about me.” He repeated. “Go get him. I’ll be fine.”

It was easier to ignore his demands when they were spoken between grunts. When he wasn’t mobile enough to enforce them.

“That’s an order.”

“I know it is.” She bent down, putting a hand over the one he held against the bullet wound. His blood was wet and warm under her palm. She tried to be gentle, but he still hissed as she applied more pressure, trying to help him stem the bleeding. Again, she felt the heat from the day before, like invisible flames were dancing under her fingers. Would it always burn when she touched him, or if ever he touched her? The whole experience, from blood to burn, was harrowing. “I’ll go once the ambulance arrives,” she told him, “but for now, I’m right where I need to be.”

He didn’t ask again. His lips were beginning to look pale, so he may not have had the strength to argue, but he kept his eyes locked on hers, taking deep breaths in through his nose to help manage the pain. She prayed to hear sirens sooner rather than later.

Nausea didn’t hit her until the flashing lights came into view, and then it washed over her in a wave at the same time as relief. Lucy managed to stop herself from vomiting until after the paramedics got Tim on oxygen and loaded him up into the back of the ambulance. It was Officer Bishop -Talia- who caught her unloading her lunch into a nearby hedge.

“You gonna be okay?” she asked.

Lucy nodded, even though she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t even wipe her mouth with Tim’s blood still on her hands.

The shop she and Tim shared was a total loss, so she rode back to the precinct with Officer Lopez and Jackson. The remainder of her shift threatened to pass in a haze until Captain Andersen called Lucy into her office.

She felt she might puke again as she knocked on the captain’s door.

“You wanted to see me ma’am?”

“Yes, Officer Chen. Come in.” Captain Andersen waved the rookie into the room, standing and walking around her desk to address Lucy more informally.

“I heard you saw some action today, so I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Captain Andersen was nothing if not compassionate.

Lucy wasn’t so sure she was okay, but she nodded because really, what else could she do? “I’m doing all right, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you made it out unscathed. And quick thinking on your part getting Tim away from the patrol vehicle once it caught fire. You saved his life.”

She had, hadn’t she? She tried very hard not to look to prideful about it. “He’d do the same for any officer, ma’am.”

“Yes. He would.” A brief moment passed where she seemed to study Lucy closely. “Sergeant Grey has informed me that you and Tim are soulmates. That your timers hit zero during your first morning meeting yesterday. Is that true?”  
“Yes, ma’am, It is.”

“I see.” The captain didn’t seem nearly as amused as Grey had, but neither did she look disappointed. She actually appeared surprisingly neutral about the whole thing.“Well why don’t you give me a little perspective, Officer Chen. How do you think it’s going working with Officer Bradford?”

How much could she really say after two days? She decided her best bet was to be honest, but vague. “He’s an excellent officer, Captain. Thorough. Strong.” She didn’t want to sound too glowing, though, afraid it would come off as flattery; or worse, like she was lovestruck. “A little tough. I don’t think he’d say I’m wrong for calling him short-tempered.” That, right there? That could be the understatement of the century. She tried to think of what Tim would want her to say, how he would describe himself in this situation. From what little she knew about him, he’d want her to make him look good, but not if it cost her being honest. What she landed on was, “I think he just wants me to be the best police officer I can be, and he’ll do what he has to, to make that happen.” _No matter how much I dislike his methods._ she thought but did not add.

Her response seemed to appease Captain Andersen. “And the fact that you’re soulmates?”

Lucy shook her head. “Officer Bradford doesn’t believe in soulmates, and has promised that it won’t interfere with my training, Ma’am.”

“I see.” Silence followed as the captain walked to the window and looked out, contemplating. Lucy had no choice but to wait for her to speak again.

“Here’s what I’m thinking, Officer Chen.” Captain Andersen continued to gaze out the window as she spoke. It somehow made her feel more uneasy than eye contact would have. Lucy’s jaw clenched as the captain began to relay her fate. “I will let you remain under Officer Bradford’s training for the time being. Or rather, once he returns to active duty. But I expect you both to maintain the highest level of integrity throughout your training. There will be no covering for one another, no making exceptions for each other. And under no circumstances will he be allowed to show favoritism to you, or you to him. Do you understand?”

Now Lucy was really glad the captain wasn’t looking at her; otherwise, she was sure her face would’ve been a dead giveaway. All she could think about was their encounter with Isabel and Ghost Head at the convenience store, and her promise to him that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Her heart began to race, thumping away in her ribs at a gallop. She wondered if her guilt broadcasted as loud on her face?

She managed to croak out a very thin, “I understand.”

“Good. You may go.” Lucy was thrilled to be dismissed, only just managing not to run for the door when the captain called to her once more. “Just one more thing. We do have strict policies about fraternization between training officers and their rookies. I’m not moving you now, but trust that I will if you or Officer Bradford give me any indication that it is necessary. Are we clear?”

Lucy doubted that day would ever come, but the captain was awaiting an answer; she doubted she would want to hear all the reasons why their relationship would probably never be romantic. What else could Lucy say, except, “Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A giant THANK YOU to everyone who read and responded to the first chapter! I wasn't expecting much response and you all blew me away. It means a lot that you'd take the time to read and review. I'd love to know what you thought of this update, too. Thank you!  
> I was so excited to get the first chapter posted, I forgot to add some things to my author's note! You've probably guessed by now that while this story is going to hit a lot of the same story beats as season 1 and 2 of "The Rookie", it's not going to be a shot-for-shot retelling. The most notable difference so far is the fact that Lucy and Nolan never have and never will hook up in this story. They're just good pals. I'm still feeling out how quickly things will move for Tim and Lucy, so there may be a little editing to previous chapters as I go along; I'll be sure to make a note if that happens.  
> The title of this story comes from "Why Can't I" by Liz Phair, which is a very Chenford song in my opinion. :)


	3. Room 446

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If I can't have my cake   
> And I can't eat it too  
> Then I guess the sound of your voice and the aching  
> Will just have to do."  
> \- "The Trouble With Wanting", Joy Williams

It was Officer Lopez that let Lucy know that Tim had made it through surgery okay, that he’d been lucky the bullet had gone clean through him. There was no shrapnel for the surgeons to extract and no major damage to any organs. He wouldn’t have a very long road to recover, and perhaps the best news of all was he wouldn’t need to go through physical therapy before coming back to the job. “Although,” Angela tacked on at the end of their conversation, “he’ll probably be more of a jackass than usual for a while.” Even with that caveat, Lucy was relieved. Waiting for info had made her a wreck. She’d chewed her nails down to stubs, anxious for someone to give her word. Being a rookie, she was one of the last to know and had hung out around the precinct until someone could pass on the news. Now that she knew, she felt better about going home.

At the end of this second, much worse day, all Lucy wanted was a hot meal, a glass of wine, a warm bath, and a long, long, _long_ night’s sleep. She felt like she’d earned that much. Maybe she’d finally use that Lush bath bomb she’d been saving; the one that made the water look like a drawing in a Ghibli movie. Yeah, that sounded nice. She hummed to herself as she changed into her street clothes, already planning her soak playlist when Talia walked up to her with different plans.

“You ready, Boot?” the other officer said, catching her next to her locker as Lucy pulled up the zipper on her boots. Talia had also changed into her street clothes, donning jeans and a jacket instead of her uniform.

Lucy was confused. “Ready? For what?”

“Tim’s conscious. Still in the ICU, but they’ll allow visitors until 8pm. Figured you might want to see him.”

She did, she absolutely did, but Lucy was still unsure what was appropriate for a rookie to do for their TO. Was she expected to visit him in the hospital, or was that crossing a line? Was there some imaginary boundary erected to keep rookies from getting too familiar with their training officers in cases like this? Being his soulmate only made things more difficult. She wanted to see him -wanted it pretty badly, actually- but what would happen when she saw him lying in the bed, stitches in his side, needles in his arms? Would she be able to handle it?

Would he even want her there?

Her hesitation lasted long enough that Talia repeated her first question, prompting Lucy to admit, “I don’t know that he wants to see me, is the thing.”

She appreciated that Talia didn’t try contradict or correct her. She didn’t say “of course he does” just for the sake of her feelings. To be honest, Talia probably didn’t know either. The best she could do was offer her an out. “I have to stop by Tim’s house and grab a few things to bring him. He’s going to be in the hospital for a few days before he can go home. You can decide whether you’ll go up to his room tonight on the way, if you don’t mind coming along for the ride.”

That sounded good enough to Lucy; at least this way, she had more time to weigh her options. Hell, she could even let Talia go up first and get the lay of the land before visiting herself.

They stopped by Tim’s house first. Talia went in while Lucy waited in the car. She studied the exterior of his house from the passenger’s seat. Whatever she had expected from a home owned by Tim, it wasn’t this. The house was a decent size for LA, clean, bright, and well-maintained; a ranch-style standalone with white vinyl siding and dark shutters. Golden-hued lights turned on gradually as Talia walked from room to room, filling a canvas overnight bag for Tim as she went. She occasionally caught a glimpse of her through the large grid window that faced the driveway. The front lawn was immaculately kept. A small garden lined the path parallel to the front door, comprised mostly of greenery, a hedge and a few elephant ears, among other plants. She thought it could do with a little color; maybe something that flowered. Perhaps she’d pick him up an African violet as a get-well present. If he kept that alive, she could let him graduate to something more complicated. Like petunias.

The mental image that conjured -Tim in gardening gloves and a sunhat, pinch-pruning petals off dying buds- made her laugh a little.

Talia soon returned and handed the bag for Lucy to hold during the drive to Shaw Memorial.

“You doing okay, Boot?” she asked as they drove.

“Yes, ma’am.” Lucy replied quickly, figuring that was the answer expected of her.

Talia wasn’t convinced. “Right, so I’m gonna ask again and you’re going to tell the truth this time.” She glanced Lucy’s way. “Are you doing okay, Boot?”

Now that she knew she was actually asking and not just being polite, Lucy let out a sigh. “I’m… the past two days have been…” After a few more false starts, she finally stated, “It’s just been a lot.”

Talia nodded, understanding her. “We can talk about it. If you want.”

“Do you really want to know?”

A pause as she considered. “I mean, not really. I don’t need to know, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Oh.”

Another stretch of silence filled the car before Talia tried again. “Look. You’re gonna be important to Tim, and he’s my friend. So you can talk if you need to talk, and I’ll listen.”

Lucy tried not to focus on the _you’re gonna be important to Tim_ part of what Talia said, even though it secretly thrilled her to hear someone else acknowledge their soulmate bond in a way that didn’t frame it as a potential liability. What she did respond with was, “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Well, for starters, do you like Tim?”

Did she? Based on first impressions alone, she’d kind of written him off as a bit of an asshat on day one, although that didn’t stop the bond between them from flaring periodically over the last two days. Namely, whenever they touched. Just because she didn’t like him right now didn’t mean she didn’t care what happened to him, and didn’t mean it wouldn’t become something more in the future.

In answer to Talia’s question, at first she said, “It’s not that simple.” because honestly, it wasn’t. No matter what happened, _simple_ would never be a word that described them. Simple was a luxury that fate had not afforded them.

Simple… _if only_ it could be simple.

Endeavoring to be a bit more to the point, Lucy added, “And anyway, I barely know him.”

“He made your timer zero out.” Talia’s rebuttal was quick. “Simple or not, that’s not nothing.”

“No, it isn’t nothing.” Lucy agreed. “But it’s also… not something. This thing? This… whatever? Is complicated. It’s going to be complicated. More complicated than I thought it would be.” More than she had ever dreamed to plan for. She smiled a little, a memory from just before her first shift as a rookie coming to mind. “It never even occurred to me that my soulmate would be a cop. I was actually worried I’d match with a criminal.”

At that, Talia laughed. “You? And a criminal? Now that I would’ve liked to see.” She let out another chuckle or two at the thought before speaking again. “It may be for the best that you and Tim don’t jump into anything right away. There might be some exceptions for soulmates, but dating a cop while being a cop? Usually that shit can mark you for life. You might ruin your career before it even starts.

“I know you haven’t asked for it, but if you want my advice, you shouldn’t get into anything with Tim until you’re through your rookie year. It’ll be best for you both to wait.”

Lucy looked down at the bag filled with Tim’s belongings as she considered what Talia had just said. She didn’t want to be nosy, but Officer Bishop had spoken like a woman who knew, and that made her curious. If it were anyone else, she may have asked how she came by this knowledge, but Lucy got the impression this conversation wasn’t that reciprocal. There was also the fact that Talia seemed to regard her and Tim as some certain, sewn-up thing, and they most definitely weren’t. Far from it, in fact… but the car ride to Shaw Memorial wasn’t long enough for that conversation. All she said in return was, “Thanks. That’s good advice.” and left it at that.

~

She still hadn’t really decided whether she’d go into Tim’s room when Talia pulled into the visitors’ parking lot and said, “Get out.”

Her order caught Lucy so much by surprise that she replied, “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. Get out.” Talia pointed to the bag in her lap. “Tim needs his things.” When Lucy still didn’t move, she prodded. “You best get going, Boot. Visiting hours end in thirty minutes.”

“But I thought-”

“-Your first mistake.”

“Shouldn’t you take the bag to him? I mean, he knows you.” Timer notwithstanding, Lucy was still basically a stranger to him.

“I never said I was going to take the bag to him. I said I’d drive you here and I’d let you decide whether or not you’d go up. You failed to decide one way or the other, so I’m choosing for you. Now get out.”

“But-”

“-You ever been tased, Boot?”

Talia was joking. She had to be… even though her face didn’t so much as hint at teasing. On second thought, rather than risk it, Lucy got out.

“Be down by 8, you understand?” Talia ordered through the open passenger door. “I’ve got a full DVR at home and if I don’t get through two episodes of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ before I go to bed, I’ll have your sub TO make you do 50 pushups every hour on the hour tomorrow.”

“Every hour?!”

“Hell yeah. On. The. Hour.”

The threat (or rather, the _promise_ ) ringing like a warning in her ears, Lucy jogged towards the lobby.

~

She didn’t like hospitals. Never had. Something about the dry, antiseptic-scented air combined with the buzzing fluorescent lights made Lucy feel prone to panicking. She’d only had to come to the hospital twice before in her life; once, when she fell from a rental pony giving rides at a friend’s birthday and needed to have her right arm set. She’d been nine then and had chosen purple plaster for her cast. The second time was as an adult, and she was saying goodbye to her grandmother for the last time. It was hard not to see her Nana in every haggard face she glimpsed through cracked and opened doors while walking down the hall of the ICU ward. She tried not to remember how Tim’s lips gradually losing color as she stood over him in the alley had made her think of Nana.

Room 446, Talia had texted her, was where Tim was staying. The floor was unnecessarily complicated, almost labyrinthian, so she didn’t locate his room until she had had to double back, finally finding it not far from the elevators.The location was unlucky. A lot of people probably passed his room, which explained why the door was kept shut with that preference noted on a dry erase board under the room number. A bright yellow, diamond-shaped sign posted to the door marked him as a fall risk, no doubt due to being under general anesthesia within the last 24 hours. If it were Nolan, she’d poke a little fun at his expense, but this was Tim. Tim was the anti-Nolan, so she wouldn’t even mention it. Save him a little pride or whatever. He seemed the type to treasure his pride.

She knocked softly, three quiet raps, and tried not to fidget while waiting for him to acknowledge her. If he didn’t answer… well, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Leave the bag with the nurse’s station maybe? If he was asleep, she could sneak in and set it somewhere he could easily reach it. Finally, after what felt like a full ten minutes of awkwardly staring at the door, she heard Tim say, “Come in.”

The first thing Lucy noticed when she opened the door was Tim sitting up in the bed. That was a good sign. A really good sign, and she heaved a sigh of relief at seeing him upright.

“Don’t get too excited, Boot.” he said, even though his face was missing its usual scowl when he addressed her. “Acting happy to see me won’t earn you any brownie points.”

Of course he managed to bring the mood down immediately with something snide. “You didn’t see how pale you were before the ambulance came,” she snapped back. “I can be relieved and mean it, you know.” The room was nice and clean, but a little small. She closed most of the distance between them with just a few steps but hung back the last two or so feet, only walking close enough to hand him the canvas bag. “These are from your house. Don’t worry. Talia picked up everything. I didn’t even leave the car.”

He glanced into the bag, then looked back up at her.

“She made you stay in the car?” Tim asked.

“No, I _chose_ to stay in the car. Didn’t think you’d want me snooping around your living space on my second day as your rookie. Who knows what dirt I’d dig up while I was there?” She meant it to sound playful, but even as she said it, it felt a little flat.

“As if I’d leave dirt out for you to find.”

“So you admit there’s dirt?”

His eyes narrowed. Yep. He was officially not impressed with her attempts at levity, leaving no real recourse for her but to back away from the joke.

“Um…” she searched for a new topic, something safer. Less awkward. “You have a nice house. What I saw of it, I mean. The outside is really pretty.”

“Thanks. Isabel chose it.”

Of course she had. Lucy should’ve realized it earlier. As nice as it was -with its white vinyl, immaculate lawn, homey lighting- nothing about Tim’s house seemed to match the man in front of her. What little she knew of him, anyway.

A sort of table was near Tim’s left elbow, one of those contraptions on a hinge that allowed him to swing it closer to reach whatever he needed. He placed the tote bag next to his cup of water and remote, then looked back at her. “Well. I’ll see you later.”

Oh. Okay. So… it wasn’t like she’d been expecting a super long visit or anything. This was hardly a time for deep conversations, for heart to hearts, but to be honest she was sort of hurt that he wouldn’t give her more than “thanks” and “goodbye”. She was reminded again that they weren’t on the same wavelength at all. She still hadn’t overcome the desire to treat him like her soulmate. He was still pretty keen to pretend she didn’t exist. Their positions as training officer and rookie only made both of their wishes impossible to fulfill.

“So that’s… it, then?” she asked.

“Looks like it.”

“Really?”

Tim scoffed once as he replied, “I’m not sure what else you expected from me, Chen.”

She made an attempt at processing what she was feeling at the moment, trying and failing to pinpoint each emotion. It was too much for one heart, too much for one brain to handle all at once. She’d have to take it in by pieces, and here -in his hospital room with its bad landscape paintings and the smell of Purell in the air— was the wrong place to do it, and yet here she was. She ran the gamut of negative emotions in the span of a few moments; grief, anger, loss, fear. All of it boiled up inside her at once to the point that she felt she might spontaneously combust.

“Yeah.” she said, after the five or so seconds where her brain short-circuited. “Yeah, no. Not sure what I expected either.” Then, because she figured it was what he wanted, she added, “I won’t bother you again.”

That response earned her an eye-roll. “Come on. Don’t be dramatic.” Tim replied.

“I’m not being dramatic, Tim.” After forty-eight hours of him being condescending, she was sick of it. “I’m upset. I’m allowed to be upset. But I’m not being dramatic.” Her voice wavered only a little when she contradicted him, tears threatening the corners of her eyes, but she forced them back. Letting herself cry now might only lend legitimacy to his accusations of her being dramatic, and she refused to let him think he was right. “All things considered, I’m handling things pretty damn well, but you’re not. Outside of the usual TO bully stuff, you’ve been mean.” He tried to disagree, but she cut him off. “You’ve been mean, and you are being dismissive.” And wasn’t that just the crux of it all? From the second they’d met, he’d been dismissive. Not just about the timers. Not just about soulmates. He’d been dismissive of her personally right from the get-go.

_I’m sure you’re a nice girl._

_I don’t believe in soulmates._

_Didn’t think it was your business._

_I’m not sure what else you expected from me, Chen._

“I know this wasn’t what you wanted. Hell, you’ve made it perfectly clear that _I_ wasn’t what you wanted.” As she continued, she still tried to show him sympathy, no matter how hurt and angry she rightfully felt. “But this isn’t my fault. You think I walked into roll call and said to myself, ‘hey, that guy’ll do’? You know I didn’t! Your timer hit zero, same as mine. I didn’t do this to you any more than you did this to me.” She gave her words a second to breathe, leaving him ample space for him to respond if he chose to, but Tim remained purposefully silent and avoided her eyes.

Remembering what Talia had said in the car, Lucy was inspired to add just one more thing. Leave it to someone as incisive as Officer Bishop to divine the truth in a simple, but profound way. She was tempted to write her a thank-you card or something for summing them up so well.

“I don’t want anything from you except for us to be good to each other, because like it or not, Tim,” Lucy said, “you’re going to be important to me.”

Finally, that did it.

 _Finally,_ he looked up.

He looked up, met her eyes, and held them captive with his own. It made her feel hopeful. It made her feel small.

So she waited. She waited for something, for evidence that anything she’d said had resonated with him; for something she’d said or done to prompt a reply. Nothing did. When it was apparent her efforts would be rewarded only with his continued silence, she walked toward the door. With her hand on the lever, she looked back at him one more time.He was staring down now, looking intently at his left wrist. There was a faint tan line about two inches thick below the joint, but otherwise it was bare. Naked except for his timer. The doctors must have taken his watch off before surgery. There was nothing for him to hide that piece of plastic behind now.

Was he ashamed of it? Did he regret it, like people regret bad tattoos? And if it was shame that caused him to conceal it, did that mean he was (at least subconsciously) ashamed of her?

“Why?” Her voice came out in a whisper. “Why did you even get a timer if you don’t believe in it?” She permitted herself to wonder aloud, half to herself and half to him. Although it hurt to admit it, she considered it might have been better to have a blank countdown than a match who regarded her at best with apathy, and sometimes with antipathy.

“I won’t bother you again.” she said, repeating her promise from earlier. This time, he said nothing, and let her go in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are really blowing me away with your response to this fic! Thank you! I've read and reread each of the reviews I've received and I've gotta say they help me stay motivated! After this chapter, we'll finally be out of episode 1. I hope you enjoy this update. Please review if you feel so inclined!  
> P.S. if you want to come yell at me/or with me about Chenford, i'm gonzo-the-okay on tumblr!  
> P.P.S once again, unbeta'd, although I do try to run things through a grammar/spellcheck. Any errors are mine.


	4. The Wrigley Route

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Loving him is like trying to change your mind  
> Once you're already flying through the free fall  
> Like the colors in autumn, so bright   
> Just before they lose it all"  
> "Red", Taylor Swift

True to her word, Lucy stayed away. To be honest, she figured the time apart could be good for her. Now that she knew who her soulmate was, she tried to force herself to stop obsessing over it. It was a lot easier not to daydream now that she knew it was Tim; even though it appeared he was separated from his wife to some degree, fantasizing about him while he was married to another woman felt wrong and a little gross. She was able to derive a small amount of comfort from knowing she wasn’t the first unfortunate soul whose match was already taken in some way or another when their timer went off. Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, and even Tumblr were filled with unlucky saps just like her. Sometimes it seemed like there were more unhappy pairing than happy ones.

Distracting herself came easily. She threw herself into studying for the job, picked up crocheting (promptly putting it down after three failed scarves in a row), and when being left to her own devices was not enough, she was lucky to have friends who were happy to play into meeting this need. That was how Nolan became somewhat of a safe space for her. She’d never forced him to share exactly what went wrong with his own soulmate, but now that she was in the middle of her own bad experience, he was more forthcoming.

Especially after having a few drinks, which is how he ended up volunteering the whole story without any egging from either Lucy or Jackson. The man really was the picture of oversharing when he wanted to be.

“I met Grace in college.” he began unprompted when the three of them went out for drinks after their last shift of the week.

“She was an art student. Our timers went off at a kegger. Come to think of it, it’s kind of amazing that we could hear the beeping over the party.” A moment passed where Nolan was calling more memories to mind, and the smile on his lips -a very particular, soft smile that she’d never seen on his face before- made him look younger by years. “It was instant. Almost too easy how good we were for each other, and then we were inseparable for two months.”

“Then what happened?” Jackson asked. Lucy was anxious to know, too, enthralled even though she could guess at the outcome based on what she knew about his past already.

Nolan hesitated, bringing his beer to his lips. “My ex.” He took a sip before continuing. “My timer was about done with the countdown, and she hated it. Hated that we’d even started seeing each other when I was this close to zero. We had a huge fight over it. I really thought I loved her, so I tried to tell her we could make it work no matter what happened with my timer or my soulmate, but she didn’t believe me. Called it all off a week before I met Grace.” She watched as he picked absently at the label on his beer bottle, staring off into the middle distance as he spoke again. “Showed up two months later and told me she was pregnant, and wanted to know whether I meant it about making it work no matter my timer.”

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up as realization dawned on her. “And you told her yes?”

“I had to. I’d already said the timer wouldn’t matter.”

“But it did.”

Nolan nodded slowly. Sadly. “Of course it did. But being there for my kid- for Henry- mattered more.”

Lucy looked down at her hands as she absorbed Nolan’s words. “I think that’s where Tim’s at with…” with what? It wasn’t like she could tell the others that Tim’s wife was a drug addict. It wasn’t her business to tell, for one thing, not to mention it would open her up to all sorts of questions about how she came by this info. All of them knew Bradford well enough by now to know he wouldn’t volunteer that sort of info. No, saying anything would take them too close to the afternoon where she and Tim happened upon Isabel (and all the consequent ass-covering she’d done for her TO) for her liking.

“With? What?” Jackson asked, gesturing with one hand to get her to continue.

She looked up, forcing a smirk on her face. “Sorry, I think I’m spacing out a little.” Tapping her margarita glass for emphasis, she sang, “ _Blame it on Patrón_.”

If the boys didn’t buy her weak excuse, no one said anything. Luckily, Lucy’s phone began to ring just a few seconds after and her bluff was soon forgotten. She didn’t recognize the number and almost sent it to voicemail, but Nolan stopped her.

“Talia mentioned Tim was getting discharged today.” he said, motioning vaguely towards her phone. “Could be something about that?”

This was news to Lucy. “Tim’s getting out today?” she asked, incredulous. Oh, so Nolan knew that Tim was getting out, but she didn’t. _Cool. That’s fine._ she thought sarcastically. What else could she have expected when she’d told the man “I won’t bother you again”? She meant it, but she’d only said it because every time she looked at him, he made it obvious her presence was a bother. It was a good thing tequila had preemptively dulled the ache this information evoked.

A look passed between Jackson and and Nolan, a lot of mutters and eyebrows lifting as each tried to pawn the responsibility of telling Lucy more off to one another. The phone stopped ringing before anyone else spoke. Then she got a text.

“Turns out the number belonged to Officer Lopez.” Lucy said as she opened the message and looked it over. It was picture of Angela, Talia, and a nurse. They were crowded around Tim who was seated in a wheelchair and looked pissed (or like himself, depending who was asked). She had only had the picture up for a minute when she received a second text.

**_Me and Talia sprang Tim from the hospital. We’ve got him home and resting now. Thought you’d like to know. Want me to pass a message on to him?_ **

“What’s she saying?” Jackson asked.

She turned the screen around, showing them both the picture and the message. Once they’d read the text, she wondered aloud, “What should I tell her?”

Jackson asked, “Is there anything you want to say to Tim?”

Lots. Loads, even, but she’d made a promise. Although now, days later, she was motivated to stick with it by her own stubbornness more than anything else.

She took another sip from her margarita before typing out a quick text that she hoped sounded appreciative, but appropriately non-committal.

**_Didn’t know he was getting out today. Thanks for telling me._**

Within seconds, Angela replied.

**_Is that for me or for him?_**

Lucy had meant the answer to be for Angela alone, but she could see how it might also serve as a message to Tim. A dig, if delivered sarcastically, which from what Lucy knew of Angela was what she leaned towards anyway.

 **_You choose._** she replied, then silenced her phone and put it face down on the table, determined to ignore it for the rest of the night.

They stayed out later than they should have, but Lucy would gladly drink extra coffee the next morning in exchange for this night out. They left the bar as a trio a little before midnight. Jackson had managed to snag a parking spot near the entrance, whereas Lucy and Nolan hadn’t been so lucky. Ever the gentleman, Nolan saw her to her car first, even though it was parked farther away than his truck.

“You going to be okay, Luce?” he asked once her car came into view.

She nodded. She’d started pacing her drinks with water long before now and was completely sober. “You’re sweet to ask, but I’m all right to drive.”

“Oh. I wasn’t asking if you were sober. Although, you are sober, right?”

Her brow furrowed. “I am. Wait a second. If you weren’t asking if I was sober, what did you mean by ‘going to be okay’?”

Nolan responded with a little hemming, a little hawing. Eventually after a good deal of prodding, she got the truth out of him.

“Talia may have mentioned that you came down pretty shaken up after visiting Tim last week.”

Lucy couldn’t say she was surprised, but she was disappointed. She should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve guessed that she wasn’t entitled to that kind of privacy as a rookie or something like that. Looking back now, she wondered if Talia offering to drive wasn’t so much a favor to her and Tim as it was motivated by orders. Just a little “undercover investigating” for Grey and Andersen, maybe.

Shit. If Nolan knew she’d left the hospital upset, who else knew?

He seemed to guess her train of thought and was quick to reassure her, shutting down any notion of ulterior motives. “She wasn’t reporting to anyone on you. Honest. Talia was just concerned. She thought I should check in on you as your friend.”

Her fists clenched and unclenched, car keys digging into the palm of her left hand every time her fist flexed. It grounded her enough to stammer out, “You promise?”

Nolan looked almost crestfallen to have his loyalty second-guessed. “I just want to know you’re okay.”

It was tempting to lie. Brush it off with a laugh, make some stupid joke like she had at the bar just to get him off her back. It would be so easy to be less than completely honest… but this was _Nolan_ she was talking to. One of the only people she could be completely transparent with and not fear judgment; if not the only one, period.

“I’m not okay, John.” she admitted. It felt good to say aloud to someone else. Someone who wasn’t asking just to be polite. Someone who got it. “I’m not. I don’t know what’s going to happen when he comes back to the job. What I’ll do. What I’ll feel.”

He nodded and she realized he had probably guessed as much already. “I wish I could tell you it gets better, Lucy.”

She wanted nothing more than to hear that it would. “But it doesn’t, does it? Get better? It’s always going to hurt?”

His response didn’t take as negative a bend as her thoughts, but he did concede with that same sad smile as before, “I miss Grace every day.”

Hearing him say that didn’t exactly restore her hope, but she did feel a little less lonely, managing to joke, “Do you ever feel like we’re just victims of a fucking stopwatch on steroids?”

“All the damn time.”

She laughed a little at his answer, but quickly grew solemn. “What do I do, John?”

Nolan paused a moment. He took giving advice very seriously and never wanted to dole it out too hastily. It was one of the things Lucy appreciated about him the most.

“It’s going to hurt for a while, and you’re just going to have to let it. Gonna have to sit in it, live with it, and eventually you learn to walk wounded.” he said. She’d figured as much, but it still sucked to hear that from someone who’d been down this road before. “Give it a little time, though. You’ll find something.”

“What do you mean?” she wondered. “What will I find?”

“I guess I mean something that matters more than what your timer says.”

~

In Tim’s absence, Lucy found herself passed around between a bunch of different veteran officers for her training. She tried to learn something from each of them, but as the days went on, she could hear Tim in the back of her head, criticizing her for picking up any number of undesirable habits from officers who .

Today’s pick was Officer Wrigley, a quintessential nice-guy who was good at the job in his very specific way (to put it politely), but who was a little too golly-gee for her liking. Rather than quiz her over the course of the morning, he told Lucy about his wife, Annette. They’d met in middle school and had been together ever since. They got timers, but only to confirm what they already knew.

“We didn’t even get to have a countdown,” he said to Lucy, beaming as he recounted the story to her (unasked, but she wasn’t going to be rude; seeing someone so enthusiastic about their wife after so long together was refreshing). “I got mine implanted first, was right next to her when she got hers, and the second it turned on, well it might as well have been wedding bells.”

She smiled supportively. “That’s a really sweet story.” _Please let it be the last one._

“Yeah, we think it’s pretty special, if a little lacking in drama. Nothing like yours and Bradford’s timers.” Coming out of anyone else’s mouth, it might have sounded mean. Not Wrigley’s though. “I bet that was the surprise of your life, huh?”

“Yeah.” she replied, looking down at her hands. She couldn’t see the timer behind her long-sleeves, but one finger traced over it through the fabric of her uniform. “Yeah. It was something else, that’s for sure.” Whether that “something else” was good or not remained to be seen, she thought.

It felt like it took forever to finally make it to lunch hour, but once it arrived, Lucy was more than ready for the break. Sitting parked in a police vehicle waiting for people to jaywalk or roll through stop signs was mind-numbingly boring. She was grateful for the change of scenery, even if it meant one hour of Wrigley stories without the occasional interruption of less-than-lawful drivers.

“All right, Officer Chen. I’ll be back in an hour.” Wrigley said to her after walking her into the diner.

She blinked, confused. “You’re not staying?”

“Nah. I head home for lunch. I like to get the wool pants off, relax a little. Be back in 40!” Then he saw himself out without another word.

Well. She wasn’t mad about having a lunch without company. And, no offense to Annette, but if she heard another word about her, Lucy was afraid she’d scream. A chunk of time to herself could only improve her ability to get through the day without a total nervous breakdown.

There was no hostess, so Lucy sat herself in a booth in plain view of the exit. That was something Tim had already hammered into her skull. She ordered a veggie burger and fries, not because she was feeling particularly peckish, but a little comfort food sounded nice today. A part of her felt a little jealous hearing Wrigley talking about his wife in such glowing terms, and even her best efforts to tamp that reaction down hadn’t completely succeeded. If she drowned her feelings in a burger and fries, at least she wouldn’t be hungry on top of it all.

She’d just received her meal and poured a little ketchup pool on her plate when someone took a seat on the bench across from her. She was briefly startled, relaxing only when she saw it was Tim.

Then she tensed, her breath hitching in her chest and her spine going rigid, _because_ it was Tim.

“Why the long face, Boot?” Tim asked, interlacing his fingers in front of him and leaning forward as he spoke.

“No reason.” she was quick to say. Too quick; Tim’s eyes narrowed a little, judging her. Her answer was suspicious apparently.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

If he was trying to get a rise out of her, she wouldn’t take the bait. “Are you here to check on me?”  
“Please. I live around the corner. I know Wrigley drops his rookies off here for lunch and since I was already out getting takeout, I figured I’d stop by.”

How did he do that, she wondered. How did he manage to sound so… unfazed after everything? She spent the past week agonizing over every word, every expression, every nuance of their conversation at the hospital, and he acted like he hadn’t thought of it at all.

Acted like it, she realized, because he probably hadn’t.

“You must like how quiet it is with Wrigley, though.” Tim said before snagging one of her fries.

Anyone else and she would’ve smacked their hand for being a fry thief, but she didn’t so much as scold him because he was her… TO. Not because he was her soulmate, she told herself. Definitely not that. 

“Actually, he’s surprisingly chatty. Talks a lot about his wife, Annette. Did you know they’ve been together since they were teenagers? Must be nice to feel that way about someone.”

She hadn’t meant it to sound like a low blow, but it was out of her mouth before she could really think about it, and only after had she realized how he might choose to interpret it. A few seconds passed where she watched his face as he weighed how to answer her. Luckily, her walkie interrupted them with a buzz of static followed quickly by new info.

“ _Wilshire units, store owner called with suspected shoplifter. Caucasian male, yellow track suit. 314 Franklin Drive.”_

Well, there wasn’t much Lucy could do about that one, no matter the proximity to her location. She didn’t have a car and her acting TO was currently off-duty.

Tim had different plans for her, though.

“That’s only three blocks from here, Boot.”

She tried not to roll her eyes. “How? How am I supposed to respond? Wrigley’s not here and I have no car.”

“You got legs, don’t ya?”

Of _course_ he’d expect her to run out anyway. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the suggestion. Top it off with the fact that he was looking at her with those blue eyes of his, and that smirk that made his dimples appear, and even though she was still pretty angry with him there was another, more primitive part of her that wanted to impress him. Collar this guy and be awarded with praise; or at least, with something other than his disdain for once.

Lucy grabbed her walkie and responded, “7-Adam-21, responding on foot.”

“Your bill?” Bradford called out as she ran towards the door.

She yelled back, “I’ll have to owe you!”

The chase was brief. It was easy to spot the yellow tracksuit from a good distance. The guy _must_ have been high on something; no sober person would shoplift dressed as bright as a stoplight. She caught and tackled him, cuffed him, and was on her feet by the time Wrigley pulled up with the shop. To her surprise, Tim walked up to her a few minutes later, carrying a small cardboard box with her lunch in it.

“I had them box it up a few seconds after you ran out.” Tim said, handing her the container after she had put the thief in the back seat and shut the door.

“Oh. Thanks. How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“This one’s on me, Boot.” he said, then walked away without another word before she could object.

Lucy was confused as she watched him walk past the diner. There was a split-second where she almost shouted out to him to ask him what the hell he was doing, but he’d already rounded the corner. She tried not to overthink it. Really, she tried; but hadn’t he told her he’d left his house to pick up food?

Then why was he walking away from the diner empty-handed when there were no takeout restaurants that way?

~

She was assigned to Wrigley the next day as well. If nothing else, Lucy had to give it him for being consistent.Another productive morning (by Wrigley standards) followed with six tickets written, two warnings given, and zero chases on foot. Later, when he revealed his reasoning for choosing a slower beat, she came to respect it even if it wasn’t a choice she could see herself making.

Which is why she gave him a chance to beg off when she responded to Bishop’s call for backup. He wasn’t used to this kind of policing. Even though her statement “whether you’re in the car with me or not” would have sounded insubordinate to any other training officer, that was not the spirit in which she said it to him. He had children he wanted to see. His was wife expecting him home safely that evening. She didn’t expect him to risk that one bit and was both surprised and a little proud when he chose to join her.

They arrived at the house on Bailey Avenue to find Nolan and Officer Bishop with the missing woman, Emma, and the criminal fleeing. The most dangerous part of the call was already behind them, which made Lucy exhale in relief. Wrigley chose to stay behind, calling in for an ambulance and a supervisor as Lucy, Nolan, and Bishop took off after the abductor. Nolan caught him. While he and Bishop him read him his rights, Lucy returned to the house, finding paramedics attending to Emma and Wrigley overseeing the scene.

“That’s two exciting days in a row, Officer Chen.” Wrigley said to her when she walked over to him. “Having you as my Boot is more effective than cardio.”

After seeing Emma off, they returned to the precinct so she could file the paperwork from their day. By the time she finished she was close to clocking out and was surprised to see Tim waiting in the bullpen.

Not waiting for _her_ of course. He had obviously come to talk to Sergeant Grey or Captain Andersen, although he was currently speaking with Wrigley, laughing about something she couldn’t hear. When she approached, the conversation stalled.

“Great working with you, Officer Chen.” Wrigley said to her. She could tell he meant it and wasn’t just saying it in front of Tim for her benefit.

“You too, sir.”

Once he’d walked away, Tim turned to Lucy. “I’m cleared for duty. Turned in my paperwork.”

She nodded, having guessed as much. “Okay.”

“… That’s all I get? ‘Okay’?” He feigned disappointment, making a rather unconvincing play at being hurt by her lack of care.

In response, Lucy shrugged. “I’m not sure what else you expected from me, sir.” She made a point to deliver it with a half-smile so he’d know she was teasing. Sure, it was a little petty to intentionally echo their conversation at the hospital, but it was already out. No taking it back now.

To be honest, she was kind of curious to see how he’d respond.

It was a little shocking he didn’t get angry like she expected. Instead, he chuckled and replied, “Can’t say I didn’t deserve that a little.”

 _You think?_ She thought, but refrained from saying. She’d gotten one knock in; she wasn’t going to push her luck by trying another. Not when they were being almost pleasant to each other. She wanted to keep that running as long as she possibly could.

Instead, she asked, “You had me assigned to Wrigley, didn’t you? Why?”

Tim looked a little frustrated that she’d even had to ask. “Everything is a test, Boot. If you’d been okay with doing a Wrigley route, I’d know you weren’t serious about becoming a good cop.”

“And since I wasn’t okay with it?”

“Then you stand a chance at being a good cop, don’t you? Especially if I have anything to do with it.” He nodded toward the locker room. “You should head out. Get some rest. Gonna have a long day tomorrow.”

“Okay, but first, can we talk?” she asked, hoping he’d say yes without question.

Instead he just sort of blinked at her, confused. “About what?”

Wait… was he serious? Did he get a head injury as well as a gunshot wound? “About what happened in the hospital?” He stared at her, still not responding. “It got really tense… we, okay, _I_ said a lot of pretty heavy stuff.” When he still said nothing, she ventured to ask, “Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Tim replied, his voice cold. “I just don’t know why you think we’d need to talk about it.”

She could pinpoint the moment her face turned red with embarrassment. “I mean, all this is really complicated, right? Shouldn’t we, I don’t know…” she looked away. Out the window, down at her shoes; anywhere that wasn’t his eyes, staring her down with so much scrutiny. “Shouldn’t we establish some boundaries or something?”

“Boundaries?” He huffed out a scornful laugh. “Boot. The only boundaries you need to worry about are the ones I give you for the job.”

“Okay, but-”

“You want to talk about boundaries, huh? How’s this for one: I told you I don’t believe in soulmates, and yet here you are keep bringing it up again. You insinuating our working relationship needs boundaries in order to function means you don’t take me at my word when I say that I don’t believe in it. So what is it? Are you calling me a liar, Boot?” She mumbled a response that was spoken more to the floor than to him. It seemed to only aggravate him more. “Speak up.” he ordered.

“I said,” she began quietly, “‘I didn’t say they were for you’.”

Tim was visibly taken aback at her admission, his mouth falling open, eyes going wide.Lucy had known it was a loaded confession that could cause any number of reactions from him. She knew it before the words left her mouth, but she hadn’t quite counted on stunning him into silence.

Whatever. She wasn’t sorry for saying it. He could deny the truth all he wanted. It changed nothing.

“I’ll handle it on my own, sir.” she said, taking the onus to respond off of him. “I thought you’d want to help but clearly I was wrong about you. Been happening a lot lately so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She spoke quickly and allowed herself to imbue the words with just a little venom -he’d earned a little venom from her by this point- before she turned away. She left him some combination of irritated and dumbfounded if the way his jaw clenched was any indication.

Good. Let him be on the back foot for once. See how he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting MUCH later than I meant to but it's still Friday for two more hours so I made it! Thank you so much to everyone who's read and left kudos or reviewed so far. I'm thrilled so many people seem to enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. This chapter takes place over episode two of The Rookie season one. Some episodes (like the pilot) might be stretched over multiple updates while others may contain one episode in its entirety. If multiple episodes are referenced in a chapter, I'll make sure to note it.  
> Please review if you feel so inclined! And if you want to come talk about this fic or Chenford in general, you can find me at gonzo-the-okay.tumblr.com :)


	5. You Should Know By Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now and again I get the feeling  
> Well if I don't win, I'm a gonna break even  
> Rescue me, should I go wrong  
> If I dig too deep, if I stay too long"  
> \- "You Wreck Me", Tom Petty

Lucy tried to sleep. Tried, and failed. The night was spent fitfully, a combination of tossing, turning, and scrolling Twitter on her phone before her alarm rang at 6am, alerting her it was time to meet Nolan and Jackson for a morning run at the beach. Even though she was separated from her last confrontation with Tim by a few hours, she was no calmer. No happier. She didn’t know how she would handle this next shift without finding herself under a new TO, if not dismissed from the program completely.

She put on a happy face for the guys when she met them on the boardwalk, but lagged behind when Jackson headed them off on their run. He was the fastest out of the trio, although to be fair he had a slight edge over both of the other rookies. Lucy’s legs were much shorter than his, making for smaller strides, and Nolan had an uphill battle against his age (although she’d never dream of saying that out loud to him). When Nolan slowed down so did she, grateful to have the excuse for hanging back and intending to take advantage of the moment alone to ask for advice.

“Tim’s back today.” Lucy said to him as they walked, watching Jackson’s lead widen.

“You mentioned that.” Nolan answered, hedging. Lucy could tell he wanted to ask questions but also wanted to be respectful. He wouldn’t force her to say anything she wasn’t ready to.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Well, you saved the guy’s life. I’m sure he’ll cut you slack for a few days.” he replied.

She wished she were that lucky. “No. I don’t think he will.”

“Why?”

“I… might have yelled at him yesterday.” When Nolan looked shocked, she was quick to amend. “A little. It was only a little.”

“Lucy!” It was unusual for Nolan to admonish her, but he managed to do so with just her name.

She sighed. “I didn’t mean to. He’s just so infuriating.”

“What did he say?”

“It’s not what he said,” she replied. “It’s what he didn’t. Or wouldn’t. Whichever.” They walked a few steps in silence before she clarified. “I think we need boundaries, because between us being soulmates, and all of the stuff with his wife-”

“- Wait, he’s married??”

“Yes. Did I not tell you that?” When he shook his head, she said, “Oh. Well, try to keep up.” and nudged him with her elbow. “Between all of the stuff with his wife, and with my training, and then he got shot on top of it all… I have no clue what’s going to happen today.” Then, she looked up at Nolan, waiting for him to impart some hard-won wisdom.

He didn’t have any. In fact, all he managed to respond with was, “Sorry, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Tim is married.”

She laughed. “You’re no help, you know that?”

“I’m serious! Someone married him?” When Lucy laughed again, he added, “On purpose?”

It was a rare instance where Nolan had no advice to offer her, but at least he managed to make her smile. That was better than nothing.

~

Hours later in the roll call room, the rookies waited for the shift to start, seated as always at the front of the room. Suddenly, an officer towards the back started clapping. The smattering of applause spread, with some officers standing to their feet. Lucy could only barely make out Tim’s silhouette through the crowd of people who had stood to recognize him.

She contributed claps of her own to the overall response, but they were half-hearted, slow, and more than a little sarcastic. Clap. Clap. Clap.

Her hopes for a long morning meeting soon proved to be in vain. Grey doled out assignments quickly, and by doing so left her no more cover from her TO. So, in an effort to buy herself just a little more time before the reckoning, she did her best to rush out of the room without making eye contact. Grabbing their gear bought her another ten minutes when she let Nolan and Jackson cut in front of her, and then she had to pack the shop according to Tim’s directions. He arrived just as she shut the trunk, and there was a painfully awkward moment when they just stared each other down, daring the other to break first.

It was Lucy -would it always be Lucy?- who made the first move towards peace. Not because she wanted to, but no matter how upset she still was, she refused to receive low marks for the day due to being petulant on the job.

“Do you want me to drive?” she asked.

Tim already looked pained this morning, but his expression twisted into a sneer at her question, now seeming downright insulted. “Why would I want that, Boot? You think I’d go back on duty before I’m 100 percent? Or do you think you deserve special treatment for some reason?”

If it was an argument he was after, he’d be sorely disappointed. Even as he walked towards her, she refused to so much as glance upward to meet his eyes, knowing she’d have to crane her neck to do so if he got much closer. The second he deigned to enter her personal space, she simply walked around him without another word, helping herself to the passenger side and buckling her seatbelt.

There was silence when they got in the car. Silence when they pulled out of the garage. Silence, silence, and more silence when they hit their route. Lucy knew why she was inclined to be quiet. It was her best attempt at boundaries at the moment. Couldn’t talk about timers or soulmates if you couldn’t talk, she thought drily. No matter her own reasons, she had no idea why Tim persisted in staying mum as well. He usually would’ve quizzed her by this point of the morning; constructed some bogus rescue scenario or something, asked her how she’d handle it, and then proceed to tell her exactly why she was wrong for the choices she made afterwards. But he didn’t. She said nothing, and he said nothing, and no one said anything until they got their first call directing them to a bank.

“A robbery?” she asked after he responded to dispatch.

“Don’t think so.” he replied. “Didn’t sound urgent enough.”

She wondered what could occur at a bank that required police presence, but didn’t demand urgency… however, she wasn’t about to ask.

Because that meant talking, and they weren’t doing that right now.

The arrived to encounter a frantic branch manager who informed them an employee had been trapped inside an ATM since the night before. Brief investigation showed the employee was already showing signs of hypoxia, so rather than waste precious, life-saving minutes waiting for the fire department, Lucy was sent out to get the Halligan tool to break him out. She’d come in ready to break down the barrier herself when Tim wrested the tool out of her hands before she could object.

All she could think about as he hammered at the the ATM was his gunshot wound. There was no way it was healed enough for him to exert himself like this, but what could she do? If she interrupted him, it would look like she was undermining him. No matter how angry she was at him at this moment, she didn’t actually relish the thought of making him look bad.

There was nothing she could do but wait until he realized his own limitations, and hope that he had enough sense to overcome his pride when that moment came.

Eventually he hesitated and looked at Lucy. “Why am I the one doing this?” he said, and it was the cue she was waiting for.

She took the Halligan and got to work. After five good, solid strikes, she’d made a decent-sized hole in the paneling, enough so that the man trapped inside pressed his face to the opening and breathed the fresh air into his lungs in gulps. Her arms sagged in relief. The worker wouldn’t suffocate and the LAFD would be here soon to finish getting him out. Tragedy averted, if only barely. A win.

She turned around to look at Tim, one eyebrow cocked in a silent “oh my gosh, did you see that” sort of way, but his eyes were glazed over and his hand was pressed to his ribs. The moment he noticed her looking, he dropped his hand to his side and straightened. Tim caught her eyes and shook his head slightly. She got his message loud and clear. Don’t point it out. Don’t say a word.

Who was he expecting her to tell, she wondered. There was only the two of them here that even knew he’d been hurt, and she wasn’t about to report it to Grey and suffer her TO’s ire for who knew how long. So she turned away and pretended like she hadn’t seen a thing as she took the Halligan back to the shop.

They didn’t leave the bank until handing off to the fire department, and even then, Lucy took it slow. Tim hadn’t said how much using the tool had aggravated his injury, but she saw it in his posture, in how his breathing hitched when he moved the wrong way. Seeing how uncomfortable he was, she asked if she could complete the handoff while he waited outside, and dressed it up as being for the “learning experience” to save him some face. He eyed her suspiciously, trying to figure out her angle, but acquiesced without a fight.

When she returned to the shop, Lucy was going to suggest a break. Not for her, of course. For Tim. She’d only frame it as being for her so he could pretend like he wasn’t hurt, like he hadn’t popped a stitch or two already from being too active on his first day back. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance. By the time she sat herself down in the passenger seat, they’d received another call and were on the move again.

The second call was pretty straightforward; an overnight burglary at a solar panel factory. A couple hundred dollars worth of materials had gone missing after someone had left one of the trucks unlocked. It was what they called a “cold burglary”. There wasn’t much they could do for the owner except calm him down and give him a contact card, after which point Lucy excused herself to use the restroom.

After a fiasco involving her belt and gun (she should’ve realized immediately Tim had taken it), he received a call on his cell phone, interrupting him mid-rant. In an instant, his tone shifted. Normally he could pause a lecture and pick up where he left off without missing a beat after being interrupted. That didn’t happen this time.Whatever was said by the person on the other line scared him. He just turned to her, shoved the belt in her direction, and ordered her to get in the car.

He didn’t tell her where he was going until he pulled into the hospital parking lot.

“Do I need to come with?” she asked.

“Don’t care,” he said before slamming his door behind him. She followed, feeling unease grow in the pit of her stomach with every step.

Tim walked into the ER -ran, was more like it- with her a few paces behind, and had just approached the nurse’s station when Isabel trudged out of a room, looking rougher than she had the first time Lucy saw her. If it were possible for her to look more pale, she did, and now her skin had an unnatural sheen to the point it almost appeared waxy. Her arms crossed over her chest, folding close to her body as she tried to control trembling. Lucy could tell what had happened -and why Tim was called- just by glancing her way. The feeling in her gut increased, worry and dread for both Isabel and Tim like a heavy weight in her stomach.

He went to his wife at once, reaching out to her like he had in the parking lot the first day of Lucy’s training. The reaction he received was the same. For all the love Tim still had for Isabel, she wanted none of it. Dragging her back into the triage room, Lucy could hear as Tim tried to reason with her, but it soon become apparent his pleas were falling on deaf ears. It ended with both of them yelling, drawing the eyes of all the nurses and a few patients before Isabel stormed out again, leaving Tim in the room alone.

Lucy walked in just in time to see his fist go through the wall.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He glared at her and didn’t answer.

“What happened?” She stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, approaching Tim slowly. Even if she had somehow missed the outburst with Isabel, she could tell from the way he was breathing, the redness creeping up his neck that he was at a breaking point. Both of his hands were clenched into fists at his sides; the right had lacerations on his knuckles, tiny cuts from where he’d punched it through the drywall.

Forgetting herself for a second, she reached for his hand to examine it. She had just taken hold of his wrist when he pulled away.

“Don’t touch me, Lucy.” he said at once, but she noticed that he didn’t sound angry. At least, not angry with her. In fact, he didn’t even look it, despite having sounded both mad and desperate with Isabel just moments before. Now he just looked hurt. Afraid.

And tired. So, so tired. 

He’d also just called her Lucy for the first time. Not Chen, not Boot. That was important to her somehow, a moment she wanted to honor as significant, but she knew pointing it out wouldn’t help Tim now. She stored it away, determined to think on it more later.

For the present, there was not much she could do except wait with him until he was calmer. It only took a few minutes for his breathing to even out the rest of the way, for his fists to unclench. She found a few bandaids in a cabinet for the worst of his scrapes. He could have easily put the bandages on himself, but he let her apply them. She did her best to be gentle with him, figuring he could use a little gentleness no matter how upset she’d been with him yesterday and this morning.

It had so far been rare that she had the chance or reason to touch him, but she still felt heat when she did. It had dulled significantly since the first day, though she couldn’t say why that was. She wondered if it would disappear completely. Nolan never mentioned feeling the sensations he felt when he first saw Grace after their initial meeting. Neither had her father. But her mother, she knew, sometimes still shivered around her father. When his hand touched hers at the dinner table; when he met her eyes from across a crowded room.

Time would have to tell, Lucy guessed. For now, Tim’s hands under hers felt like sitting under the sun at noon in summer. As long as she was touching him, she was warmed from head to toe.

~

It turned out the day being kind or unkind to them was not the problem. The problem was Tim. He either didn’t know how to give himself a break, or he didn’t want to.

The latter was the more likely scenario.

The calm he’d found after his latest encounter with Isabel had only managed to last a short while. It dissipated when dispatch directed them to a biker bar on their beat. Lucy’s initial hope was that he’d ask for another unit to be assigned, but that proved to be a pipe dream. She suggested calling for backup, only to be met with a hardened smile from her TO.

“And where’s the fun in that?” he asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out.

Within seconds someone had thrown a beer bottle in their direction, the shards bursting in every direction from only a few feet in front of Tim. Her hand flew to her taser as she looked at him, waiting to see what he’d do.

“Oh, that’s just sad.” Tim snarked at the bikers. “Either you’re man enough to come at me, or you’re not.”

_What?_

“Now, who needs a felony?” Considering what he was asking, Tim sounded almost cheerful. It sent a chill up Lucy’s spine.

 _You’ve gotta be kidding me._ “What are you doing?” she said to him through clenched teeth. She was tempted to call for backup herself and drag him back to the shop by his collar, but she had no time. A prospect in the club -Jordan, the other bikers called him as they cheered him on and jeered at the cops- had thrown another bottle at Tim, aiming for his head this time. Then he charged.

The fight was brutal, with both sides landing huge blows. Tim took a knee to his torso a few times. Lucy winced seeing it, fearful of what fresh trauma could do to his gunshot wound. He was still healing, no matter how cavalier he was behaving both now and earlier. She wanted to intervene, but they were outnumbered, and this was a fight Tim had picked. There was nothing for Lucy to do except watch and hold her ground even as a handful of the other bikers began to approach her at a slow pace.

She switched sides on her belt, moving her hand from her taser to her gun just before Tim got Jordan onto his stomach and cuffed him up. With the fight over, the rest of the gang fell back, leaving Lucy free to take the biker from Tim.

Just in time, too, she thought as he called in the arrest. He had cuts above and under his eye, his lip was bloody, and those were just the injuries Lucy could see.

She had questions. A lot of them. Questions like _what the fuck_ and _how dare you._ But all she asked him was, “What the hell was that?”

His answer was textbook Tim. “Patrol work, Boot. You planning on saying otherwise?”

If he kept doing this? Probably. She didn’t love the idea of having to turn in her training officer for being reckless, but it was better than one or both of them dying.

For now, she said, “No sir”, and left it at that. But she wouldn’t let it go so easily, no matter what he expected from her.

~

Lucy was relieved to see Bishop and Nolan in booking when they returned to the precinct. She processed the biker herself (even though Tim was the one who had made the arrest _and_ started the fight that preceded it), then grabbed Nolan for a quick talk in the next room.

She launched into her concerns without preamble. “I’m worried about Tim.” she began. “He picked a fight with a biker, then wouldn’t let me call for back up. He could’ve gotten us both killed. I don’t know what’s going on with him. Like, is he just destructive? Is he trying to prove himself?”

“Maybe he came back too soon.” Nolan offered.

“Maybe.” Lucy agreed. Her mind flashed to the image of Tim taking hits to his stomach, knowing they landed close to his injury, if not directly on it. “But it’s not just physical. He’s got a lot of personal stuff going on and he’s not handling it well at all.”

“Personal stuff? Like you?”

She hadn’t wanted to say so, but, “Yeah. Like me. But also his wife. It’s really… Nolan, you have no idea how fucked up this whole thing is. I don’t know how to help him, and even if I did, I doubt he’d let me.”

“Well, you can’t just do nothing, right? You said he could’ve gotten you killed.” he pointed out.

That was true. “Yes, but… he’s my TO. I’m not going to narc on him. He needs help, not disciplined, and if I elevate this at all…” she trailed off, knowing exactly how he’d respond if he knew she was talking to Nolan, or if she went as far as to bring it to Sergeant Grey’s attention.

“He’d never forgive you.”

She sighed. “No. He probably wouldn’t.”

“I hate to say it, Lucy, but it’s going to have to be you.”

That was what she was afraid of. “It’s not gonna go well.”

Nolan nodded. He knew it wouldn’t, but was right to point out, “What other choice do you have?”

No one else knew how deep in it he was. Since no one else knew, there was no one else who could talk Tim off of this ledge. In all likeliness, she would probably still fail.

She was just the one that stood the best shot of getting through to him.

~

She caught up to Tim as he was picking up NARCAN from the quartermaster and knew immediately where they were headed. Still, she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. See if he’d be honest with her.She felt like she’d earned a little honesty from him by now.

As they walked back to the garage, she ventured to ask, “Do we really need all that?”

 _Just tell me the truth._ she prayed silently.

_Just say we’re taking it to Isabel._

_Please, Tim. Tell me the truth._

He didn’t look at her as he replied. “Bad batch of fentanyl making the rounds out there. Need to be prepared.”

She sighed. _Dammit._ She was so disappointed, and that was only half of what she felt.

The other half of her was absolutely livid. 

This was bad. Really, really bad. Maybe worse than she’d anticipated if he was willing to lie to her and steal supplies from the department in order to feel like he was making progress towards saving his wife.

As they drove, she tried to plan her course of action. None of her options were easy. If she confronted him about the NARCAN and his plans for it, he could either deny it or pull rank. If she said nothing, he’d enable Isabel unchecked and the vicious cycle between the two of them would continue.

Either way, she wouldn’t be reporting Tim. No matter what she did today, she was in this with him whether he wanted her to be or not.

The place he took them to was well off their usual beat. He parked the shop in the lot of an older apartment complex, a short walk away from a large pink unit lined with rusted railings and dingy windows. Lucy wanted to bury her nose in her sleeve at the pungent smell of weed smoke, making its way into the vehicle even with the doors and windows closed.

“Stay here.” Tim ordered before getting out.

Once he’d left, she started to psych herself up for the impossible job ahead of her. She had to confront him. _Had_ to. There was no other option. She had to confront him, no matter how angry he got, and deal with it from there. It was the right call for him, and for Isabel. Tim was just too close to the situation and couldn’t see it. She said all of these things to herself, muttering it under a breath before summoning all her bravery and opening the door.

He yelled at her the second she stepped out of the shop.

“I said, stay in the car!”

“I know what you’re doing here.” She began, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt at the moment. “You’re not helping Isabel. You’re enabling her.”

His face fell for a second as he realized she’d determined the real reason he grabbed more NARCAN, but quickly hardened with anger. “Oh, and you know everything because you’re some shrink’s kid? She’s going to shoot up! That’s the reality, but this,” he held up the box, “this will save her life.”

She continued on with her speech as if he hadn’t said a word. That was a little trick she learned from him; not departing from the main point of the lecture even after being interrupted. “Addiction doesn’t just destroy the addict. It destroys the family.” It felt cliche to say it aloud, and her voice shook on every word, but she got it out and was satisfied after having said that much.

“Who the hell are you to tell me this?”

“I’m your rookie, and I need you to _train_ me. Not put me in danger, not make me complicit in supporting your wife’s addiction. This stunt here? Or the one with the biker today? You’ve been back on the job for one day and I’m already having to cover your ass because the moment you so much as think about Isabel, you spiral.”

He was furious, that much was clear, but she was undeterred. He wouldn’t -couldn’t- contradict her. She was confident of that. He knew she was right.

She chanced one step in his direction. When he didn’t move, she took another, and another until she was close enough to touch him. Not that she did; she just reached for the NARCAN. “I’ll take it to her. If you go up, it’ll just make things worse.” Although for him, for herself, or for Isabel, Lucy wasn’t quite sure.

“Apartment 510.” he bit out after a long pause. It wasn’t quite permission, but it was the closest she was probably going to get; she’d take it.

~

Lucy had seen worse apartments already on this job. On the scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being nice and 10 being a literal dumpster, this one was a solid 6. Not the grossest, but closer to it than she felt comfortable with.

She knocked on the door. After a few seconds, it was opened just enough for Isabel to catch a glance of her uniform and badge before she slammed it shut again.

“You can’t come in without a warrant!” she yelled through the door.

“Isabel, my name is Lucy Chen. Tim Bradford is my TO and he sent me up here.” No sound from the other side. She continued. “If you don’t give me five minutes, he’s going to come up here himself.” When she again heard nothing, she added, “It’s really best for all of us if you let me in.”

After another moment or two of hesitation, Isabel opened the door.

“What do you want?” she asked after reluctantly letting Lucy inside.

She went no farther than four feet from the doorway, and that was as far as she needed to go to nearly get knocked over by the smell of cigarettes and whiskey. The apartment itself wasn’t in horrible shape. Nothing like the pictures of drug dens she’d seen in the academy. It looked almost like a home, but the smell and drug paraphernalia on counters and end tables kept that illusion from ever materializing.

“Your husband got shot recently.” Lucy began, though she couldn’t begin to say why. This isn’t what she came for… but, since she’d already started, she asked, “Did you know that? He took a bullet when we got ambushed. It was really scary.”

Concern passed over Isabel’s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, shoved down easily.

“Really? Because, he seemed fine earlier.”

Oh, so being dismissive was a trait she and Tim shared. How cute.

With a roll of her eyes, Lucy set the NARCAN down on the coffee table. “NARCAN. Won’t get you clean, just reverses the effect of an O.D.”

Isabel was unimpressed by Lucy’s explanation. “I know what NARCAN is. I spent a decade using it on junkies.”

Wait, what? “You were a nurse?”

“No. A cop.” A beat followed where she eyed Lucy with disbelief, then she asked, “Tim didn’t tell you?”

No, shockingly Tim hadn’t mentioned his wife being a cop between their impromptu visit to the hospital, fighting with bikers, and stealing medicine from the LAPD. “He doesn’t really talk about you.”

Isabel paused as she took this news in. “Good.” she said, even though she stammered over it. “That’s good.” Her fingers tapped an anxious dance across the top of the cardboard box as her eyes shifted from the NARCAN, a pair of boots in the middle of the floor, and Lucy. NARCAN, boots, Lucy. NARCAN, boots, Lucy.

“So, uh,” she began as she put the NARCAN back on the coffee table and picked up a carton of cigarettes. She withdrew one before speaking again. “If my count was right, Tim’s timer has probably gone off by now.” She lit the cigarette, taking a deep drag, then exhaling a cloud that didn’t totally conceal her sad smile. “He didn’t want me calculating it, but I did it anyway. I bet he’s happy.” She looked back at Lucy. “Is he happy, Officer Chen?

For her part, Lucy was stunned. “I, um… I don’t know, He said he doesn’t believe in the timers. Or soulmates.”

Isabel laughed like that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “What a dick.” she said, shaking her head. “He’s a liar, you know. He used to say that to make me happy. He promised nothing would change when it went off, and I believed him. Not that I left it up to him in the end, though.” She took another deep drag off the cigarette, the ember end sizzling with her inhale. “So what’s she like. Is she nice?”

“I… haven’t met her.” It was the answer she felt safest giving; conceding that she was correct about his timer while not offering any details of his match. Saying that she hadn’t met her wasn’t her proudest moment, but it was technically true. She hadn’t met her because she _was_ her, but she wasn’t about to tell Isabel that. Even though she tried to sound blithe about Tim’s timer, Lucy could tell this was a deep, persistent wound that Isabel was working through, and she wanted to be mindful of that. She had no desire to hurt her more by revealing herself to be the woman in question.

Taking pilfered NARCAN from your husband’s soulmate would probably be hard for anyone to recover from.

“Tell him,” Isabel paused to exhale, her face briefly obscured by another cloud of smoke “Tell him he can’t come back here.”

Lucy couldn’t imagine herself delivering that kind of news, but she saw how serious Isabel was. Her eyes bored into Lucy’s, looking for honesty. “Okay. I’ll tell him.” she replied.

Isabel was not convinced. “I mean it, Chen. You tell him to stay away.” She leaned back against the couch cushions and flicked the ash off of her cigarette onto the carpet under her feet. “There’s no future here.”

~

She needed a minute. A minute to gather herself, to regain her composure. Find her bearings. But a minute, she just didn’t have. Not while she was standing outside of Isabel’s apartment, with music blaring nearby and Tim watching her anxiously through the windshield. She could feel his eyes even from here.

He didn’t press her for information once she returned to the shop, waiting until she was ready to speak. It wasn’t typical for him to wait. She knew then there was probably a part of him that didn’t want to know.

“Her apartment is pretty decent.” she offered, but decided to hold back certain details. The stench of liquor. The ash on the carpet.

A man’s boots in the middle of the living room floor.

Tim nodded, looking visibly relieved. “Good. That’s good.”

“Yeah. Um…” She hesitated to mention what Isabel said about his timer, knowing bringing it up could potentially cause a fight, but her curiosity won out in the end. “She asked about your timer. Said you must’ve zeroed out by now. She wanted to know what your soulmate is like.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “What did you say to her?”

“I told her that I hadn’t met her.” When his brow furrowed, Lucy felt like she had to defend herself “I didn’t want to hurt her.” He didn’t appear impressed with her fudging, so she added, “Besides, it shouldn’t matter who your soulmate is since you don’t believe in it.” She didn’t mention that Isabel called him a liar about saying the timers didn’t matter. She wanted to think about it more before she brought it up.

 _If_ she ever brought it up.

He nodded, eventually conceding she made the right call. “I never counted the date out myself.” he admitted. “She must’ve figured it out when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You really didn’t know the date?” she asked.

He glanced down at his left wrist only briefly. “I forced myself to stop looking once I met Isabel. Once it looked like things were going to be a little more permanent. It just didn’t seem to matter anymore.”

For some reason, that hurt her. Hearing him say that it didn’t matter reminded Lucy that they’d both spent the better part of two decades regarding their timers with very different feelings. Not that she’d ever forgotten, but she was constantly being reminded in some way or another, and that? That was beginning to wear on her. She inhaled sharply, feeling tears prick her eyes. To her surprise, Tim almost appeared remorseful as his head bent forward, leaning so low he was nearly resting his forehead against the steering wheel.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Chen. I just… I wanted so badly for it to work with Isabel.” Well, that much Lucy had guessed on her own. “Did she tell you she wouldn’t let me remove it?” He paused, waiting for her to reply. When she didn’t (because what could she possibly say to that), he said, “I think she convinced herself it was romantic in some weird, fucked up way. That me having a soulmate out there somewhere and still choosing her made our relationship mean more.”

“She didn’t mention that.” Again, she was resolved to hold back what Isabel had actually said; in this case, how she’d demanded Lucy tell Tim to stay away. What would have been the point? It would only hurt him, and he probably wouldn’t listen anyway.

For the first time since she’d gotten back in the car, Tim managed to look at Lucy. It was guarded, nervous; she was tempted to call it shy. “Thanks for going up there.” he said. “I, um… I know that probably wasn’t easy for you.”

It wasn’t, but it was likely easier for her than for him. Recognizing what he meant, though, and appreciating that he acknowledged how difficult it was for her, she replied, “Isabel’s important to you.” It was all the explanation she offered, and he asked no more of her.

~

Their shift stretched into the night, with all of Lucy’s hopes of an easy day for Tim’s sake well and truly dashed for good when they found themselves in pursuit of a group of cosplaying robbers. They’d come to assist Nolan and Bishop and ended up chasing one of the criminals into an alley, where they both got out of the shop to continue the pursuit on foot.

All things considered, the chase was brief. The suspect fired in their direction, which sent her pulse racing but also gave them a good idea of where he was hiding. She was less worried for her own safety than Tim’s at this point, knowing that a display of violence this early in a confrontation didn’t bode well.

“He’s trapped behind this truck,” Tim whispered to Lucy after the criminal sent a second spray of bullets in their direction. He glanced around, then up, assessing the best way forward. “If I go over the trailer, I’ll come out on top of him.” Even as he said it, he grimaced, like he was dreading the exertion necessary to complete such a task.

“I should go.” she offered at once. When he cocked an eyebrow at her suggestion, she explained. “Improvisation is a useful tool for a rookie to learn.” she stammered, sounding less assured than she’d wanted to, but hoping that Tim would see her offer for what it was: an excuse for him to stay grounded and avoid further injuries at no expense to his dignity.

“Fine. Okay. You passed tonight’s test. Get your ass up there.”

Once atop the truck, apprehending the man was easy. Aiming her gun at his leg, she ordered him to drop his weapon and get on his stomach. He complied at once. Tim rounded the truck with his gun raised, lowering it only when he bent to put handcuffs on the guy. When he looked up at Lucy again, there was a slight smirk on his face.

“What are you waiting for?” He teased. “Applause?”

She holstered her weapon before replying. “Actually, yeah. Applause would be nice.”

Still crouched by the criminal, Tim made a show of clapping his hands slowly, three deliberate claps just like she had when he walked into roll call that morning.

“Is that the best you can do?” she asked.

“Why not? It’s the best you did.” he retorted.

Oh, so that wasn’t a coincidence. He had seen her this morning. Moreover, he’d seen her and had noticed her lack of applause at his return.

He hadn’t asked for an explanation, but still she found herself offering one. “Look. I was still pretty mad at you this morning, okay? And I didn’t think you’d see.”

Tim didn’t respond for a few minutes; not until she was back on solid ground and not until after they got the robber into the back of their shop. Lucy had just shut the rear passenger door when he spoke again.

“Lucy.”

She still wasn’t used to hearing him call her by his first name. It sounded so foreign coming out of his mouth. Too casual, and familiar, like they were friends and not… whatever this was.

“That’s twice now you haven’t called me ‘Chen’ or ‘Boot’.” she pointed out. “If you keep it up, people might think you’re getting soft.”

She meant it as a weak attempt at levity, but he didn’t seem to appreciate it. Hell, he didn’t even acknowledge it.

“I can always see you, okay?” he said. “You should know by now that I can always see you.”

All things considered, it was a fairly innocuous thing to say. Hardly some grand declaration and nothing really to get excited about, but there was something about _how_ he said it that gave Lucy pause; a certain look in his eyes, and tension in his body that made him stand as straight as a rod. Maybe she was desperate to derive subtext where there was none, but Lucy couldn’t help but think, out of anyone else’s mouth, such a statement delivered like that would almost be romantic.

She was quiet for long enough that it became uncomfortable. Soon, Tim shook his head, brushing off the weird energy that settled over them with an ease that she envied.

“Back in the shop, Boot.” he ordered, the tenderness of moments ago gone in seconds. “We got a bad guy to book.”

He was back in TO mode as quick as a snap, behaving as though nothing had happened, leaving Lucy alone in wondering what on earth he could have possibly meant by _that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews/kudos/shares on the last update. I am one well-fed writer! I hope you all enjoy this one just as much. Strap in cuz it gets heavy, kids! This chapter takes place over episode 1x3, "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly". 
> 
> I have started sharing previews on my tumblr when asked! I'm trying to keep to a weekly schedule with updates on Fridays, but if you need previews to tide you over between updates, check there! gonzo-the-okay.tumblr.com


	6. The Chance to Choose and Be Chosen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hold on  
> Not trying to put you on the shelf  
> But before I can love you  
> I need to learn to love myself"  
> \- "Imperfections", Celine Dion

“That marriage is going to last forever.” Nolan said, ending a long and unnecessary story about a proposal he’d witnessed during one of his more recent shifts. The details had been long and winding enough that Lucy forgot how they’d ended up here. She’d been reading from the rook book, and suddenly Nolan was talking about a foot chase, a stolen urine sample, and a wedding ring.

The story sure was… something.

“Sorry, but I don’t know if similar arrest records is as unifying an experience as you seem to think it is.” she deadpanned, and even though she tried to force it back, she couldn’t help but grin at the very end of her sentence.

After a second, Nolan laughed. “Yeah, no. You’re probably right. At least it’s a good proposal story.”

“Not sure about ‘good’.” Lucy said, glancing down at her rook book again and turning the page. “Memorable, maybe. Definitely memorable.”

“Well, isn’t that the same thing?”

It wasn’t, but having never been proposed to herself, it took her a second to articulate it. “Things that are memorable aren’t always good, Nolan.” She paused to drum up some examples, landing on one pretty quickly. “Like ‘Twilight’? Right? Memorable, definitely, but not very good.”

“Oh, are we talking about movies now?” Jackson interjected, returning to their study circle carrying three beers freshly opened from Nolan’s fridge; one for each of them. “Star Wars. Memorable but not good.” Both of his study mates disagreed vehemently, with Lucy making him take it back at the threat of violence. “Jeez, all right then. It’s a matter of opinion.”

“I guess you’re entitled to your wrong opinion.” Nolan conceded.

“Your deeply, deeply wrong opinion.” Lucy added.

Jackson side-eyed Lucy hard. “You and I both know you only liked the sequels because of Adam Driver.”

When she tried to deny it, both men shushed her.

“You admitted as much in our group chat.” Jackson exclaimed. “I have receipts! Horrible, _graphic_ receipts.”

“He’s right. Personally, I will never be able to look at red lightsabers the same way ever again thanks to you.” Nolan said over him.

Lucy pretended to be offended. “If talking about Adam Driver’s impressive upper body is a crime, then you can lock me up.” When both of the guys groaned, she added, “The man is built like Hercules and I am not sorry for saying so.”

“So… that’s your type then?” Jackson asked. “Tall, dark, and god-like, and not…”

When he trailed off, Nolan picked up his train of thought, joking, “Tall, blond, and marginally less god-like?”

“I’m not sure about that ‘marginally less’ nonsense, Nolan.” Jackson hedged. “I mean, Bradford’s eyes are pretty blue.”

That comment clearly confused Nolan, his brow wrinkling as he looked at Lucy. “Is that a thing? About blue eyes?”

She sighed, shooting Jackson a look before reluctantly explaining. “Kind of. You have your hot guys, you have your hot guys who have blue eyes, and you have your guys who have blue eyes. Basically what Jackson is alluding to is, ‘is so-and-so hot, or are his eyes just blue’. And look, I’m not going to pretend like Tim is not conventionally attractive.” When Jackson pretended to be shocked, she laughed. “Stop it. He’s really handsome, ok? And yes, he also has really, really blue eyes.”

“Ok but _how_ blue?”

“Jackson.” Nolan pretended to scold, but he was teasing. Mostly.

“What? I want details!” He looked back at Lucy. “On a scale of Hemsworth to Pine, how blue are we talking here?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that particular question.” she said, making a show of hesitating for just a second or two before deciding, “Okay, fine. On a scale of Hemsworth to Pine, Tim is a… Chris Evans.” When her answer was met with mocking whoops and hollers from both of her friends, she exclaimed, “Can we please, please focus now? Tim quizzes me on everything and if I have to study, you guys have to study.”

Nolan looked at Jackson. “Who made that rule?”

“I don’t know but that’s a shitty rule.” Jackson added before taking a sip of his beer.

Ignoring them, Lucy looked down at her rook book and read aloud. “Anyway, what are the descriptors of a firearm?”

There was a pause as both Jackson and Nolan thought about her question.

“Serial number, maker’s name, model, caliber or gauge.” A moment passed while he tried to recall the rest of the list. “Um… color of metal.”

Nolan smirked. “Length of barrel.” He finished the list with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows.

Lucy scoffed, pretending to be disgusted, but couldn’t help but laugh in spite of herself.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How’s it been going with Tim?” Jackson asked, and for his efforts received a moan. “That bad?”

“Not bad, just not great.” Not bad, as in, nobody had gotten shot lately. Hurray. Strange baseline to have, but there it was. Not great because of, well… everything else. Although his first day back had ended on an almost-nice note, it wasn’t enough to undo the shit from earlier, and all subsequent days on the job had been pretty straight-forward and by the book.

She still didn’t know exactly what he meant by _I always see you_ , and enough time had passed that she wasn’t sure how to ask.

“You want to talk about it?” Nolan asked.

“Not really.” Lucy replied, looking first at him, then at Jackson. “It’s just hard. It’s going to be hard for a while. And I’m trying to be okay with that.” Then, she added with what she hoped with a coaxing smile, “It’ll be easier to be okay if we stopped talking about him andstudied so I don’t flunk out of the program.”

“You? Flunk out?” Jackson pshawed at the idea. “Not likely, Lucy.”

Nolan agreed. “Yeah, if anyone is going to flunk out, it’s probably going to be-”

“-Don’t even say it.” She interrupted, shushing him before he could say another word. “None of us are going to flunk out. I’m sorry for even joking about it. Now, can we please study so we can crush tomorrow?”

Jackson looked at Nolan, then at Lucy. “I’m confused. Is tomorrow distinct somehow?”

“Not at all.” She said, looking back at the rook book, running one finger down the information as she read it over. “Just another day where I train with Tim Bradford.”

Tim Bradford, her tall, blond, god-like (she wouldn’t delude herself with qualifiers like “marginally less”) TO/soulmate.

~

It turned out that Lucy needn’t have studied so vigorously, because the next day, Sergeant Grey decided to switch things up. He put the rookies with different training officers, giving them the added assignment of unearthing intel about their new TOs over the course of the next shift. She tried not to let it rattle her because, after all, changing plans was the watch commander’s prerogative, but Lucy would really have liked to prepare. To plan. A heads up of even an hour or so would’ve been nice.

Not that she’d ever say that to him or Captain Andersen. She’d get laughed at or dismissed immediately, if not laughed at _and_ dismissed.

Standing at the kit counter with the other rookies, they tried to suss out what to expect from the other training officers. She had tons of information on Tim but was careful to play it close to the vest. Not just because she wanted to win the extra day off (she desperately needed a pedicure and a massage) and telling Jackson info about Tim would give him an advantage, but more importantly, the majority of the things she knew weren’t her secrets to tell. If he wanted to know something about Officer Bradford, he’d have to do the digging on his own.

Nolan had similar walls up about Talia, so she made little headway there as they gathered their supplies for the day. Oh well. At least they’d all be starting out with the same level playing field.

As she turned away from the the counter and headed toward the garage, she was surprised to see Tim waiting next to one of the shops. Waiting for Jackson, she figured, but then he came and talked to her as she began to unload her and Talia’s supplies.

“Bishop’s a good officer,” he said to her as she placed the gear in the trunk. “You pay close attention to what she does, okay? She won’t steer you wrong.”

“Yes, sir.” she replied, figuring that would be the extent of their conversation.

Tim wasn’t done, though. “Don’t give her sass like you do me. She won’t be as nice as I am.”

That made her pause. She looked over at him, eyes narrowed. “With all due respect, sir, I do not give you ‘sass’. I understand the inherent hierarchy at work between a rookie and her training officer.” 

“Uh huh. Sure.” he replied, sounding unconvinced. Then he said, “Uh… just be careful out there, okay?” All his bravado from moments ago briefly dropped as he made this request of her.

She was more than a little confused at this about-face from him; once again, he’d managed to change his tone so quickly, speaking to her plainly, naturally, and without any of his token gruffness all on the turn of a dime. It kind of gave her whiplash. Lucy wanted to point it out, but though better of it.

Instead, she asked, “Are you checking up on me, Tim?”

His brow furrowed. “No. No, absolutely not.” This denial was followed up with a somewhat less forceful, “Shut up.” Before she could respond to him, Talia called for Lucy.

“Chen.” Already, Officer Bishop sounded displeased, and Lucy was uncertain why. They hadn’t even left the garage yet. Her opportunities to disappoint Talia were comically low at this point in the day. “If you are done flirting, I’d like to get on the road now.” she finished flatly.

Well, that would be why she sounded pissed. In an instant, Lucy felt her cheeks go bright red with embarrassment. “I… Ma’am, I wasn’t.”

“Bishop, that was out of line.” Tim rebuked her, his voice stern.

For her part, Talia appeared unfazed. “Looked pretty in line from where I stand, Bradford.” Once more, her eyes landed on Lucy. “Boot. Driver’s seat. Now.” She shot another glare at Tim even as she only addressed the rookie officer, and “Don’t make me repeat myself,” was the last thing she said before climbing into the passenger’s side and slamming the door.

~

The drive out was quiet. Awkward. Heavy with a tension she could slice with a knife. Talia had so far not tried to break it, and the scenarios Lucy rehearsed in her head all felt lacking somehow. Still, the dead air was getting unbearable, so she ventured to break it, opening with just half a sentence.

“Look, uh-”

“Save it.”

She tried not to be deterred, but it was hard when Talia was, apparently, already determined not to hear her out. “I just wanted to-”

“Don’t. I’m not a slot machine, Chen. Can’t put a quarter in me and get advice out.” She looked at her only peripherally. “I told you what I think you need to do about Bradford during your rookie year, and I’m not going to say more on the subject.”

“… I wasn’t going to ask you for advice.” Lucy said.

Talia didn’t seem so sure. “Oh, you weren’t?”

“No.” Her grip tightened on the wheel as she planned what to say next. “I was just going to say, Officer Bradford and I weren’t flirting.”

“Oh, I never said he was flirting with you, Boot. Bradford’s been around the block a few times now. He knows how to toe the line.” She left enough of a pause that Lucy brightened for half a second, before ending with, “I said _you_ were flirting with him.”

Lucy cheeks burned with fresh blushing, just like they had that morning in the garage. “No I wasn’t.” she mumbled.

“Mmmhmmm.” Once again, Talia was less than convinced.

Lucy dug her heels in, though, determined to defend herself. “Ma’am, Officer Bradford has expressed to me multiple times that he does not believe in timers or soulmates, and I respect that. I know for a fact he is still committed to his wife. I would never question your judgment normally, but I believe what you may have been seeing was camaraderie between teammates. Not,” she hesitated to say the word out loud, but eventually bit out, “flirting.”

“Uh huh. We’ll see.” was all Talia said in response.

The quiet once more resumed, broken only when Lucy pointed out an expired tag on a vehicle in front of them. The vehicle in question was wanted for a hit-and-run, but the second Lucy got the lights going, the driver and his passengers all bolted from the vehicle.

What followed was a chaotic failure on Lucy’s part. First she neglected to apprehend the driver per Officer Bishop’s instructions. Instead, she tackled and cuffed a hitchhiker who was unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Since they had no legal reason to detain him, he had to be cut loose, and they were left with nothing.

If the silence before was heavy, now it was unbearable.

She tried to apologize. “You told me to detain the driver, and I failed to do so. It won’t happen again, ma’am.”

Talia didn’t even look at her. Just kept her gaze focused at the window as she murmured a non committal, “Sure."

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe that as much as I believe you when you say you weren’t flirting with Bradford this morning.” Talia looked at her. “How’s that, Boot?”  
“We were not flirting.” she insisted for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘the lady doth protest too much’?”

She tried not to look offended, but she was, and it made her bristle. “Tim is my training officer. Insinuating that our working relationship isn’t totally above board can get him and I both in a lot of trouble.”

Of course, Talia already knew that. “So it’s not so much that you think I’m wrong, it’s that you just don’t want to get caught. Is that it, Officer Chen?”

“No, ma’am.”

Talia seemed unimpressed with Lucy’s answer. “Boot, you have a fundamental misunderstanding of what’s happening here. Being a cop is the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Instead of focusing on the job, putting all your effort toward being the best officer you can be, what are you doing? Getting hung up on Tim. Betting your entire future on a stopwatch.” She scoffed, unimpressed. “The city is littered with the failed potential of rookies like you.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, there are no other rookies like me.”

Talia rolled her eyes. “You think you’re the first rookie to catch feelings for her training officer? Please. You are not that special.” She looked out the window again. “The only ones who make it through the program are the ones who are so serious, they put everything else aside. Is that something you’re prepared to do?”

She wanted so badly to insist otherwise, to decry the accusation (baseless or not) that she had feelings for Tim. They were soulmates (which Lucy still believed in, no matter what Tim said) and that created a connection between them that she couldn’t shake. Despite that, during all of her interactions with Tim, the majority of them were unpleasant. Usually one of them ended up angry, if not both. It was hardly the ideal recipe for a person to “catch feelings”. But she was getting nowhere by pleading. Talia could not be convinced she was wrong, and Lucy was wasting her breath and energy trying to get her to see differently. So, she clutched the steering wheel tighter, clenched her teeth, and conceded with a stoic, “Yes, ma’am.”

Of all the things Lucy expected to hear from the passenger seat, a heavy sigh was not one of them.

“Look, Boot.” Talia began, speaking with more compassion and patience than she’d used previously. "I’m typically a one-and-done on life advice, but you clearly need my help so I’m going to make an exception.” Then she removed her watch, set it aside and showed Lucy her forearm.

Lucy looked and was stunned to see not a timer, but a raised line running horizontally across her skin, from edge to edge of her wrist. It was, she realized after a moment, a scar. A rather long scar, though quite thin. It was no thicker than a hair tie except for two circles on either end.

“The circles are from the bolts.” Talia explained. “Cheaper model, sort of clunky. Required additional support to get it to stick.”

“You… you had a timer? And got it removed?” Lucy asked in disbelief.

Talia nodded. “Installed at eighteen. Removed at twenty. Only got it in the first place because everyone I knew was getting one, and you know how peer pressure can be.” As she reaffixed her watch, she explained further. “I decided pretty young that I was not about to trust my life to a countdown. No one was going to determine my future except me. But you?” She looked at Lucy. “You’ve been living life according on a clock for, what? Ten years now?”

Lucy looked away. “Fourteen.” she admitted quietly.

“You spent fourteen years looking forward to the future, only to be disappointed by it once you got there. I don’t have to tell you that’s no way to live your life. I think you’ve seen that for yourself.”

She was right. Lucy didn’t want to admit it, but Talia was right. What had zeroing out brought her but heartache in varying degrees, punctuated by only the briefest glimmers of… what? She couldn’t call it hope. Not when she had none that she would actually end up with her long-awaited soulmate. Happiness didn’t fit the bill either.Simply put, the only thing she’d gotten from it that was positive (and even then, only briefly) was a scant handful of momentary rushes. She got that high of first zeroing out at midnight, then of seeing Tim from across the room, and hearing the chimes as her timer went off. Almost every moment since had basically paled in comparison with that first meeting when she still thought it was going to be the start of something. Back when she thought a new chapter was beginning, not realizing she had barged into a story -into a life- that was already in-progress and appeared to have no room nor desire for her presence.

It was a relief when a call from dispatch disrupted their conversation and gave Lucy a break from contemplating, even though the details sounded pretty intense as it came through. A young girl claimed she was being held against her will in a parking lot. They were the closest unit and arrived on the scene only a few minutes later, pulling up to find a film crew and trailer in the lot. Upon exiting the shop, Bishop was approached first by one of the men on the crew.

“Got a call. A young girl said she was being held here. Is that true?”

The man explained it was the girl in the trailer, Sarah, who must have made the call. “She’s holding _us_ hostage.” he said, a bit blustery. “Every minute she refuses to come out is money lost.”

Lucy was happy to take a backseat to the call, watching Officer Bishop as she navigated the delicate scenario. Dealing with children required compassion and balance, as she could never be seen yielding her authority for a second. Talia spoke to the child firmly, but not unkindly. In every moment of her interactions first with the child and then with Sarah’s foster mother, Talia exemplified poise and strength. She was the kind of cop everyone should admire. As she thought back to their conversation from earlier, Lucy realized that Talia was the kind of cop she wanted to be. Thorough, but compassionate. Conscious of the law, but equally considerate to the human condition.

Tim had been right to tell Lucy to watch her closely.Officer Bishop was _good._

_~_

Even though watching Talia work was both informative and inspiring, Lucy couldn’t help but feel relieved when the day finally ended. The impressive way Talia handled Sarah’s call aside, she could only handle so much of her quiet scrutiny in one day. She’d gladly take 12 hours of Tim’s incessant grilling over Talia’s insightfulness. It was somehow less fatiguing.

“I don’t know how I’m going to make it through tomorrow.” Lucy complained over dinner with Nolan that night.

“You? What about Jackson? What’s Tim going to do to him?” Nolan asked, referring to the news that Jackson had frozen on the job during firefights not once, but twice. So far, that secret had only traveled as far as the training officers and the other rookies, but if it wasn’t handled soon, it was bound to get out. They were both worried about what it might mean for their friend’s career, although Lucy was a little more confident in her assigned TO’s abilities to help him.

Going off of what little she knew about Tim, she ventured to guess, “Tim won’t throw Jackson under the bus.” When Nolan made a sound that signified he wasn’t so sure, she amended. “All right, he’s calculating, I’ll give you that. But he doesn’t go out of his way to be cruel. He doesn’t actually want anyone to fail, he just wants everyone to prove themselves.” She thought a second more, smirking a little as she decided, “He’ll probably take it as a challenge. That sounds like something he’d do.” She paused only long enough to take a sip of her wine before barreling on with barely a breath to spare. “Did I tell you Talia would not stop saying I was flirting with Tim? Me? Flirting? With Tim? As if I would ever do that.”

“Yes, she’s surely seeing things.”

His sarcasm might have been overlooked if she were just a few more glasses in, but being that the night was still young, Lucy picked up on it immediately. “Okay. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nolan sighed, preparing to level with her. “Lucy, you’ve only been here an hour and you’ve talked about Tim fifteen times.”

“That can’t possibly be an accurate count.”

He held up his phone, showing that a row of 1’s had been surreptitiously typed into the notepad on the screen. “I’ve been keeping tally. Well, to be fair, I brought him up one of those times,” he deleted one mark, “but still. Fourteen.”

Oh.

_Well, damn._

“Crap.” she said.

Nolan put his phone down. “You want to talk about it.”

“Are you…” she hesitated, trying to figure out his angle, “are you asking me or telling me?”

“Luce.” His smile was good-natured. Whatever came out of his mouth next, he was being gentle as a preemptive measure. “You mentioned the guy fourteen-ish times. I’m telling you.”

She nodded, then raked one hand through her hair, pausing when she reached the base of her neck, leaving her fingers tangled in the waves there. “I’m so confused.” Nolan said nothing, waiting for her to continue. After a moment, she did. “He said this thing a few nights ago that I just… I can’t shake it, John.”

“Well, what did he say?”

She could recite it verbatim by now, down to his tone and inflection. “He said, ‘You should know by now that I always see you’. And the way he said it was… I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“Talk about loaded.”

“Right?” she sighed, briefly hiding her face in her hands. “And I can’t get past the implications of that. ‘I always see you’.” She glanced back up at Nolan. “But Talia thinks I’m making a mistake having any sort of feelings for Tim during my rookie year, regardless of the fact that we’re soulmates.”

“And you do? Have feelings for him, I mean.”

“No.” She replied too quickly, then after a moment’s thought, added, “Not on purpose.” Eventually, she landed on the most truthful answer of all. “Maybe a little. I don’t know how to turn it off. Even after everything that’s happened…” she couldn’t help but smile sadly, her heart heavy as she admitted, “Wanting to be wanted is a hard thing to let go of.”

~

The TO switch lasted through the next day. Lucy had just finished putting the day’s gear in the shop when the foster child from the day before arrived and begged to see Talia. Although Officer Bishop tried to afford Sarah a measure of privacy by taking her to an interrogation room to speak, Lucy couldn’t help but listen in, and was once again moved by Talia’s talent for discerning.

“The sooner you stop feeling sorry for yourself and do what has to be done,” Talia had said, “the better off you’ll be.”

That advice in particular stuck with Lucy. She thought about it through the rest of the morning, mulling it over in the back of her mind in mantra-like fashion throughout the day. She only brought it up that afternoon during a lull while they acted as backup in support of a drug bust.

“I heard what you said to Sarah. About not feeling sorry for herself.” she began, a little nervous, and waited to see how Talia responded.

She didn’t seem surprised. “I’d ask how you heard that but I figured you’d be listening. Can’t say I didn’t mean it for you, too.”

“I um… I’d never really considered a scenario where I zeroed out and nothing changed, as pathetic as that sounds.” she admitted. It wasn’t that she had no goals outside of meeting her soulmate. She had just thought she’d be accomplishing those goals with him beside her. Now that that wasn’t part of the plan anymore, she wasn’t sure what to expect or what to hope for; what to anticipate.

“It’s not pathetic.” Talia was quick to counter. “It’s a little sad, maybe, but not pathetic. From everything I’ve seen, timers wreck more relationships than they help. I mean, look at Tim and Isabel. There were three people in that marriage since the beginning. What kind of longevity could they possibly have had?”

Lucy felt a little shameful for not having considered that perspective before now. “I can’t believe I never thought of it that way.” she whispered. It wasn’t that she held herself at fault for all that had gone wrong between Bradford and his wife, but now that Talia mentioned it, she realized how true it was. Having met both Tim and Isabel, it could not be denied that she’d been an invisible presence hovering over their lives long before she ever officially entered it. The revelation was daunting and unsettling. 

“I know you didn’t. And this might sound harsh, but I have to ask, why do you want so much to be with a person who knew you were coming and still decided to commit himself to someone else? Don’t get me wrong; Tim’s a good guy, but don’t you want better for yourself, Chen?”

Lucy looked down at her hands, feeling her lower lip start to tremble as she took in the full weight of Talia’s words. “I thought you said I was going to be important to Tim someday. Do you not think that anymore?” She was brazenly deflecting her question by bringing up past comments, but she didn’t have an answer for Talia. She didn’t think she’d know until Talia answered her question first.

There was a pause as Talia decided how to respond. “I still think that.” she eventually said. “I’m not sure how, but you will be. That’s not important right now. What’s important to me, and what should be important to you, is that you don’t default to anyone. You don’t default to anyone,” she repeated, “and you don’t let anybody default to you. You don’t have to want Tim just because a clock said so. You deserve the chance to choose and be chosen.” She let her words hang in the air a minute before asking one last followup. “Do you understand?”

Lucy nodded, her face solemn. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Now can that end the feelings talks for the month? You got me sounding like Nolan over here.”

She would have laughed at Talia’s grousing, but the moment was cut short when Sergeant Grey’s voice came over the radio.

_“Here we go. Red Civic, Nevada plates, entering parking lot”_

Talia looked at Lucy. “You ready, Boot?”

She nodded. “I’m ready.”

~

Sometime during the afternoon -after _you deserve the chance to choose and be chosen-_ Lucy quietly reached a decision. It was a little impulsive, but having considered everything Talia had said that day and yesterday, she felt confident it was the right choice.

Well, maybe not confident. She was pretty sure, but also pretty shaky. She’d found herself in a place where there were no right answers, and she’d selected what she felt was the best decision from a lineup of not-so-great ones.

When her shift ended and her paperwork from the day was all submitted, Lucy hurried through showering and changing, determined to get out of the station before someone could stop her for any reason. She avoided everyone, keeping her eyes on the ground as she shuffled through the lobby and out to her car. Only when she was seated in the driver’s seat did she pull out her phone and call Nolan.

She held her breath until he picked up. Once he had, she immediately launched into speaking.

“Hey, I need a favor. Are you around?”

She heard a car horn honk from her left. Sure enough, there was Nolan just four spaces down, sitting in the front seat of his truck. He gave her a little wave, then hung up, got out, and walked over to her car. She rolled down the window.

“License and registration?” he asked with a smirk.

On any other day, that would have been a mildly amusing dad joke that Lucy would’ve laughed at, more out of pity than actually finding it funny She wasn’t in the mood for it tonight, though.

“Can you come with me? I need to go to the urgent care.” she said. Though she tried to sound calm, her voice unintentionally took on a frantic edge, betraying her feelings. 

His mood changed instantly. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes.” It was a lie.

“What’s going on?”

Tears sprang to her eyes, burning at the edges of her lashes. She bit her lip, willing them back.

“Lucy. You’re scaring me.” Nolan said as he leaned against her door, his hands resting on the panel.

“I’m fine,” came her shaky promise as she wiped away tears with the knuckle of her forefinger, “I’m fine. I just don’t know think I want to do this alone.” She took a deep breath, letting it fill her chest before she looked up at him again and spoke aloud the plan that had taken root in her mind just hours before.

“I’m going to get my timer removed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed or left kudos. And special thanks to Daisy aka stargazerdaisy who looked over this chapter for me to make sure I got Talia Bishop's voice just right. You're the best, babe!  
> 


	7. An Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now I don't have much to offer  
> I thought that was plain to see  
> Explain I'm just an unbeliever  
> And I believe you can count on me"  
> \- "Unbeliever", You + Me

She had to give credit where credit was due. Nolan didn’t immediately try to talk her out of her choice to get her timer removed, even though Lucy was sure it came off as abrupt to him. He just nodded and agreed at once to accompany her with no other questions asked. They drove to Lucy’s apartment so she could drop off her car, after which point she joined him in his truck and he took her to the urgent care.

The ride to the doctor’s office was spent mostly in solemn silence, broken only when Lucy’s phone rang. It was Jackson. She debated sending it to voicemail but decided against it, answering and trying to sound cheerful as she spoke. She didn’t want to alert him to something being up.

“Hey, Jackson.” she said brightly. From beside her Nolan appeared to scrutinize her chipper tone. She shrugged, toning it down to a more realistic, mellow level as she asked, “What’s up?”

“What’s up? Uh, where’d everybody go?” he wondered. “I thought we were studying tonight.”

Shit. She’d completely forgotten. “Oh. Are you still at the station?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, man. It sort of slipped my mind.”

“Where are you headed? I can meet you guys there.”

She hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how much she wanted to divulge. “Um, Nolan’s taking me to Cedars; to the urgent care.” She figured it couldn’t hurt to tell him that much, but was intentional about holding back the other details. Why they were going. What she planned to do. She wanted to keep the trip under wraps as much as possible.

There was also a chance that if she shared the specifics aloud too much, she would psych herself out. Being that she was already pretty keyed up, she didn’t want to risk it.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He didn’t sound mad that she was flaking out on him, only concerned.

The honest answer was no, but she replied, “Let’s just say I’m gonna be okay.” It was less the truth than it was a wish.

“Okay.” She could tell from his tone that he was disappointed she wouldn’t tell him more, but he also was considerate enough to not press it. “Let me know if you need anything, I guess. Hope you feel better.”

“Yeah. Me too. Thanks. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

She felt bad about letting Jackson down, but tried to put it out of her mind, knowing she’d make it up to him somehow. There’d be plenty of chances to study together over the next few months. Besides, it wasn’t like the guy _needed_ to study more. He’d been learning police code since before he could walk, and that was only a slight exaggeration.

“Jackson okay?” Nolan asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, just wondering where we went. I forgot we were all supposed to study tonight. He’s not mad though.”

Nolan paused before saying, “I noticed you didn’t bring up your timer to him.” When she didn’t comment on it, he asked, “Are you worried he’ll try to talk you out of it?”

Lucy shook her head. That wasn’t her motivation at all. “I don’t think Jackson cares too much about timers, to be honest. Not everyone does.” That was half of the truth. The rest of it was harder to share, but she did, although it took a few tries to find the right words for making her point. “I didn’t tell him because he’s still at the station, and even though I trust him, I don’t want it getting out by accident what I’m about to go do. It’s no one else’s business.”

A few seconds passed before Nolan clarified. “By no one… you mean Tim?”

“I mean anyone.” She was emphatic on that point. “I don’t want _anyone_ else knowing. You saw how the veteran officers reacted when my timer zeroed out during roll call. How would they treat me if they knew I was getting it removed? They’d treat me like I couldn’t handle myself. No. I don’t want to hear the comments, and I don’t want to hear the little digs, and I’m not giving anyone a chance to make them.” She looked out the window, watching the streetlights whiz by in a blur as the truck sped onwards toward the doctor’s office. “I just want this to be over with.”

~

The wait at the urgent care was short, all things considered, with only four or five patients in line ahead of Lucy when she checked in. She was asked to fill out the clipboard with her information, bringing it back to the front desk when it was completed. She had just sat down in one of the old blue plastic-covered chairs beside Nolan when her phone began to rang. A glance at the caller ID showed her it was Tim. Her blood ran cold, even as she felt the blood rush to her head, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“You going to answer that?” Nolan asked.

She declined the call, silenced it to vibrate, and placed it face down on her lap. A few seconds later, it began to buzz. Tim was calling again.

“Dammit.” she whispered, once more declining the call.

“Why don’t you answer?” Nolan asked. He made an effort to sound blithe about the whole thing, but she saw through the act. He could pretend to read that parenting magazine all he wanted, she knew he was only _too_ interested in what happened next.

“I don’t want to lose my nerve.” she answered.

“If you can lose your nerve that easily, maybe you’re not sure about this.” he posited.

“Whose side are you on here, John?”

He put aside the magazine. “Yours, Lucy. I’m always on your side. And look, I’m not trying to convince you one way or another. I just want you to be sure. The last thing you want to do is make a rash decision you’ll eventually regret.”

Her phone buzzed again, only twice this time. Text messages. She picked her phone up again and read them silently. As she expected, they were from Tim.

 ** _You ignoring my phone calls?_** the first read and she almost chuckled. He should have guessed that much by now.

**_Jackson said you’re at the urgent care. What happened? Are you hurt?_ **

Dammit Jackson. She quickly typed out a message, but not to Tim.

 ** _Why did you tell Tim I’m at the doctor?_** she texted Jackson, entering and then deleting a frown emoji to finish it. She was upset, but he didn’t deserve her getting angry at him. He didn’t know what she was planning. Luckily, he didn’t delay in responding.

**_Because he asked where you were. Was I not supposed to tell?_ **

Well, no. He wasn’t supposed to tell but she’d only just realized that, for all her attempts to keep this little trip a secret, she hadn’t had the foresight to specify that much.

 ** _It’s fine._ **she replied. **_He’s just won’t stop blowing my phone up._**

All was quiet for several minutes, with no more messages from either man until eventually, Jackson sent one more message containing a single, smirking emoji.

She shot back **_Glad you’re amused_** then quickly put her phone on Do Not Disturb mode just as the nurse called her name. They were ready for her. Lucy glanced nervously at Nolan. 

“You want me to go with? Or should I stay here?” he asked, understanding her look without her having to say a word.

He’d come along with her this far, and for that she was so grateful. He’d been her rock the whole night (hell, he’d been her rock for _weeks_ ), but she realized that the final steps a little too intimate to have him hovering nearby. “I think I better go alone.” she said. “I shouldn’t be long.” Then she stood and walked towards the nurse who had called her name.

Her vitals were taken first; temperature, weight, blood pressure, first date of last period. When the nurse asked what brought her in to see the doctor that day, she replied simply, “Timer removal.”

An expression of hesitation passed over the woman’s face, her eyebrows knitting together as she pointed towards Lucy’s arm. “Mind if I look at your wrist?” she asked. Lucy complied, holding out her left arm for examination. After a few moments of studying the timer -and after some light poking and prodding at the skin that held it in place- the nurse looked back up. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to schedule something with a plastic surgeon instead? The doctor can do it here, but it’s going to leave a small scar.”

Typical Hollywood, Lucy thought drily. God forbid people have skin that dared to be less than flawless. She thought of Talia, of the raised skin on her wrist. The mark left behind by her timer wasn’t unsightly by any stretch, and Lucy wasn’t so vain as to worry about scarring. “No, ma’am.” she answered. With a shrug, the nurse bade her to follow again, leading Lucy to a room separated from the others by a heavy vinyl curtain.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse said, then slid the curtain shut with the unpleasant screech of plastic on metal.

Left alone, Lucy took an anxious look around the small room. The walls were bare except for a small square mirror set just above her eye-line. Who was that for, she wondered. It couldn’t have been for any patient under 5’3”. A white pedestal sink stood in the corner, and above it was a medicine cabinet containing supplies. There was a rolling stool, a second chair like the ones in the waiting room, and the patient table covered in butcher paper that she knew would crackle if she sat on it. Urgent cares weren’t hospitals, but they were close enough that it made her a little uneasy. The air was just as pungent with antiseptic, and the muted sound of medical chatter happening in the halls was too similar to the noises Lucy had heard walking through the ICU to visit Tim.

Nolan would come if she called, but she really didn’t want to ask that of him, no matter how willing he’d seemed in the waiting room. She could picture him vividly, standing beside her as the doctor methodically extracted the timer. In her mind, he didn’t look supportive. He looked sad. Disappointed, even.

She absently ran one finger over the acrylic face of her timer. Strange to think she’d zeroed out only a little under a month ago. Of all the places she thought counting down would bring her, here to a doctor’s office to get it removed had not been on her list of possibilities. It would have seemed unfathomable not so long ago; she’d spent just as much of her life having a timer on her arm as she had without it.

Lucy knew the numbers on her timer would turn to dashes as soon as the connection to her body was severed, and that that would also be true of Tim, wherever he was. If his model was anything like hers, the faint green glow would switch to yellow. What would he think when the zeroes disappeared and the dashes returned? Would it make a sound, like it had when they first met eyes? Would he guess that she’d gotten it removed or assume that something worse had happened?

Would he even notice at all that anything had changed?

Desperate for distraction, Lucy picked up her phone. She meant to check her Instagram but paused upon seeing that Tim had texted again, though only once.

**_Can you please just let me know you’re okay?_ **

A lump formed in her throat as she read it over several times. She wasn’t okay; she really wasn’t, and she wanted to answer him, but didn’t. She didn’t know what to say, but the longer she stared at the message, the more she ached to answer, and the more she felt certain that she shouldn’t.

She called Nolan instead.

“Did you ever think about getting your timer removed?” Lucy asked the second he answered.

“Are we just doing away with greetings now? Is that going to be a thing?”

“Sorry. Hi.”

“Hi. How’s it going back there?”

“It’s fine.” she paced a few steps, standing on tiptoes to appraise her reflection in the comically small mirror. “I’m in a room the size of a closet waiting to be seen.” Then she repeated, “Did you ever think about getting your timer removed?”

This time, he paused to think about it. “A few times.” he answered, after mulling it over. “Mostly during the first few years.”

“Was there something that stopped you?”

“Eh, different things. At first, I was just lazy. Seemed silly to go to the doctor over something elective like that. No offense.” he added quickly. "Sometime around Henry’s tenth birthday I got word that Grace had gotten married. Thought about doing it then. But things were really rough with me and Sarah. I don’t know. I think I liked having one last tie to her, even though we never spoke. And now… sometimes I look at it and think about her. On bad days, I could just about go crazy with missing her. Mostly it just reminds me that she’s out there somewhere still. Even if it’s not with me, I’m just glad she’s still out there.”

“Do you think she’d notice if you got your timer removed?”

“I honestly don’t know. I’d like to think so. But it’s been so long that I don’t know. I bet Tim would notice, though.”

Lucy wasn’t so sure. “He made a point to stop looking at his timer when he met his wife. He hides it behind a watch.”

“Oh. Well, if you’re worried he won’t-”

“-No, it’s not about that. This isn’t a cry for attention.” Growing flustered, she ran her fingers over the furrows in her brow. “I don’t care if he notices or not. This isn’t about him. This is about me. This is about me,” she emphasized, “and what I want and what I need.”

“And what you need is to remove your timer?”

Was it? She’d thought so this afternoon, but her guts had gradually waned the longer she was in the doctors office. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She shook her head quickly, as if that could shake out the last of her uncertainty.

“Lucy, it’s a big deal.” Nolan chided gently. “You really should be sure.” 

Her vision went blurry as tears welled in her eyes. “The only thing I’m sure about is I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want to look at my timer and be reminded that I never stood a fucking chance.”

Her confession was met with the harsh, piercing sound of the dial tone. Nolan had hung up. Lucy pulled her phone away from her ear and stared at it. She considered calling back, figuring he must have lost signal, but it was soon not needed. The curtain opened halfway, revealing Nolan.

“Can I see your wrist?” he asked.

“What are you doing?”

“You said Tim hides his timer behind his watch, right?” She nodded. “Okay. Now, can I see your wrist?”

She extended her arm in his direction, acquiescing to… well, she wasn’t sure just what she was permitting yet. Then she saw Nolan reach for his right arm, undoing the band of his wristwatch and wrapping it around Lucy’s. She’d worn watches before, but those were all dainty, almost flimsy things. This watch, with its brown band of braided leather and its silver, circular face, was more than enough to cover the top inch and a half of her wrist, effectively concealing her timer.

Which, she now realized, was the point.

“There.” Nolan said, taking a step back once the watch was in place. “Look at your arm. What do you see?”

“Nolan-”-

“Luce, come on. Indulge me. Look at it.”

She looked down. “I see your wristwatch.”

“Oh, so close.” He grinned. “You see _your_ wristwatch. The wristwatch I’m giving you.”

“Nolan.” She tried to smile, but it was a pretty sad attempt. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“This isn’t me trying to fix it for you, Lucy. Honest. I just don’t want to see you give up something that’s important to you because of how someone else made you feel.” he explained. “You said you didn’t want to look at your arm and remember how you felt. That’s fair. Now you’ve got another choice. Now you can look at your arm and remember that you have someone who cares about you enough to give you his best-slash-only watch.”

She ran a finger around the metallic edge of the clock face before looking up at him. “Will you want the watch back if I decide to get my timer removed?”

“I’d be tempted to ask for it back, yes.” he said with a chuckle. “But it’s yours.”

Lucy lowered her arm. The weight of the watch was unfamiliar, but not heavy, and the gesture was so touching she could’ve cried.

“Thanks, Nolan.” she said softly.

He nodded, shrugging off her thanks like it was no big deal. “I’ll be in the waiting room, whatever you decide.” he said, then saw himself out and left her alone to contemplate.

Where before her finger had traced the timer, now it ran over the weave of the braided leather. It perfectly concealed her timer. Not even the faint green glow was visible with the watch around her wrist. Nolan’s best-slash-only. It wasn’t a fancy watch, probably not very expensive, but it was nice and sturdy. Reliable.

Kind of like Nolan himself.

~

“How’d it go?” Nolan asked and stood to his feet as Lucy walked back into the waiting room.

Lucy held out her wrist for him to see. She still wore his watch.

“I couldn’t do it.” she admitted softly. “I got all the way to letting them clean it with alcohol wipes, and then I chickened out.” Dropping her arm, she looked at the ground, avoiding his eyes as she asked, “Do you think that was the right choice?”

Nolan put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed, trying to reassure her. “I think in this case, the right choice is the one you’re surest of.”

“Well, great.” she pretended to whine. “I was only slightly more certain about keeping it than I was about getting it removed when the moment came. I guess that’s what I get for being impulsive.

“It’s just that so much of this whole thing has been out of my control.” Lucy looked up at him. “I wanted to feel like I was in charge for a minute, you know?”

He nodded. “I know. Believe me, I get it, but you should know that knowing you can remove it and still choosing to keep your timer is also you making a choice. That’s you being in charge.”

A glance at the clock as they passed the receptionist’s desk revealed it was almost 8. “How about you drive me home and I’ll buy you dinner?” Lucy suggested. “I owe you sushi or something for wasting your evening.”

“Come on. Helping you is never a waste.” he said, playfully putting on a tone of fake piety as he spoke. “But I also wouldn’t say no to pizza.”

She nodded, agreeing “Pizza, it is,” and grinned for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Her smile didn’t last long, though, quickly fading as soon as they reached the sliding doors.

They hadn’t even made it out of the foyer when she spotted a familiar figure making his way through the parking lot toward the all-glass entrance of the building. For a second, Lucy was convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her and chalked it up as fatigue, but as he walked closer, she knew she had not been mistaken.

Tim had come to the urgent care. He was dressed in civilian clothes, but his collar was just a little askew, as if he’d gotten dressed in a rush. His expression appeared a little frantic as he jogged towards the door, slowing only when he laid eyes on Lucy. Maybe she was imagining it, but the anxiety written plainly on his face appeared to dissipate once he saw her, relaxing as the automatic sliding doors parted for her and Nolan and they stepped outside.

“Hi.” he said. Again, she must have been imagining things, because he almost sounded relieved.

She couldn’t help but regard him with suspicion. It was one thing to call and text, but showing up at the doctor’s office when she’d been ignoring his attempts to contact her was on another level entirely. What would he have done if she’d still been waiting to be seen? Called her from reception? Walked back to the triage and gone room to room until he found her? She wanted to at least ask what he was doing there, but, “Hi.” was all she said back, and she was proud that her voice was steady in spite of how wary she felt.

His eyes traveled between her and Nolan, brows furrowing as he asked. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” He wouldn’t get more than that out of her until she knew why he’d come.

Nolan had no such qualms. “I was just about to take Lucy home.” he said.

“I’ll take her.” Lucy noticed it wasn’t really an offer. It was closer to an order.

Nolan, God bless him, looked at her first. “Only if it’s okay with you.” When Tim tried to insist it was fine, he hushed him by stating, “No offense, sir, but I was asking Lucy.”

She could almost hug him for that, but stopped after catching Tim’s dumbfounded expression out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah, it’s okay. Raincheck on the pizza, though.” Lucy said, trying to sound nonchalant when she felt anything but.

Only when she had given her permission did Nolan walk away, leaving the two of them -her and Tim- alone on the sidewalk in front of the doctors office.

Tim spoke first. It was a little jarring; she wasn’t used to him speaking first. “You okay? You’re not hurt or anything?”

“I’m not hurt.”

A tense moment passed where Tim’s eyes traveled over her, apparently looking for evidence of an injury that she was concealing. When he noticed none, he was satisfied to move on. “Okay. Let’s go.” He started to walk away, pausing only when he didn’t hear her footsteps following behind him. “You coming?”

Maybe it was the remnants of her courage from earlier. Maybe it was bullheadedness, or she was emboldened by Nolan’s watch and assurances. Or maybe Lucy was just tired of the games. Either way, she found the fortitude to stand her ground. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” she repeated. “I’m not leaving until you tell me why you came here.”

He scoffed at her. “I was trying to be nice. If you don’t want me to drive you home, call an Uber for all I care.”

Lucy laughed. It wasn’t even funny, what he said, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t trying to be mean; he was just being ridiculous, inconsistent, and was so clearly out of his depth. It was as amusing as it was sad to see him flounder over feelings he couldn’t name, much less explain. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? No matter his protests and contradictions about soulmates and timers, they all went out the window the moment he said _I can always see you,_ rendered void the second he showed up to see her without her even having to ask.

“What’s so funny?”

“You did not drive all this way just to make me call an Uber, Tim.”

He tapped his keys impatiently against his leg as he spoke. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I’m off-duty.”

“You should still answer for your training officer.”

“And that’s who you were calling as? My TO?”

He didn’t answer. Made braver by his silence, she forged ahead.

“I know Jackson told you I’d come to the urgent care. Obviously, because I only told one person other than Nolan and yet, here you are. If you were wondering if I’d been hurt on duty, you could’ve just asked Talia, but she wouldn’t have been able to tell you anything, so you just came here yourself. In kind of a rush, if the state of your shirt is any indication. Why?”

He avoided her eyes, looking just past her instead of at her. “What do you want me to say, Chen? Do you want me to say I was worried?”

Only now that he’d mentioned it so specifically. “If that’s the truth, then yeah. I want to hear you say that.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Okay. Fine.” He was flustered; that much she could tell from the way he shifted his weight from on leg to the other. One hand had delved into his jeans pocket while the other gesticulated, making the keychain in that hand jingle with every gesture. "I was worried. So? You weren’t answering, and I had this feeling, and y-you really asked _Nolan_ to take you to the doctor? Nolan, and not me, your…” He seemed to realize what he was saying and stopped short. The rest of his sentence hung in the air unfinished.

If he thought she’d let it go, he was wrong. “My what, Tim?” Lucy asked, and still he kept silent. “My training officer? My soulmate?”

His eyes landed on hers, blazing with intensity as he answered, “It’s both, isn’t it?”

That admission, spoken barely above a whisper and said more to the ground than to her, succeeded in rendering Lucy speechless; her mouth went dry, and for the second time that night a lump formed in her throat. There were several long, successive moments where the only sound she could hear was the hum from nearby traffic.

“Take me home.” she finally said once she’d found her voice again. “We need to talk.”

~

She was glad for a quick, quiet trip back to her apartment. It gave her a little time to gather her thoughts and plan her attack (so to speak). It was too serious a conversation to have in a car, something Tim seemed to have realized too. He didn’t try to talk to her during the drive, except to ask whether she wanted the radio on. She pressed the dial and let whatever station he’d preset play, sound filling the space so it felt less awkward.

Less awkward, but not by much. No song in existence could completely unwind the tension that coiled around them.

Lucy spoke only enough to direct him to her apartment complex and didn’t wait to see whether he was following as she walked towards her unit. Out of the three stories in the building, she lived on the second floor in a one bedroom that faced the parking lot. She was glad she kept the place pretty neat and wouldn’t have to worry about Tim judging her as a slob once he saw her apartment. Still, she noted how different it was from his cozy home with its hedges and white trim. They were living very different lives, and that was never more apparent to her than now, as she fumbled to extract her keys from her bag in the poorly lit hallway outside her front door.

“You thirsty? Hungry?” she asked after unlocking her door. She placed her jacket and purse on top of the small Ikea dining table that only sat two. Then she walked toward the kitchen, toeing off her shoes as she went, and tried to remember what she had on hand in order to make good on her offer. She opened the fridge to inspect it contents and was disappointed to realize she did not have much. Basically just breakfast food and three beers left over from the last study session she hosted. “I hope you’re not hungry because all I have is Landshark. I can order takeout if you want.”

Tim had not followed her in beyond the door, choosing instead to stay put in the entryway. “You don’t have to feed me, but a beer sounds good.”

She grabbed and opened two bottles from the fridge, then walked back to him and placed one in his hand.

“You gonna stand in my doorway all night?” she asked before she turned and walked toward the couch, hoping he’d follow. After a moment, he did, taking a seat on the opposite end to her left.

“Since when do you wear watches?” he asked, pointing at her left arm.

She glanced at her wrist when he mentioned it. “Since Nolan gave me his.”

Tim sneered a little hearing Nolan’s name. “Didn’t realize you guys were that close.”

“Yeah, well, we came up in the academy together, and he has his own shitty experience with timers in his past, so he’s been helping me.”

“Hmm.”

Her explanation didn’t seem to appease him, but there was nothing she could do about that. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.

“What’s going on, Tim?” she asked, figuring there was no point in being subtle.

Lucy could tell he wanted to be evasive; she could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, and was pleased when he overcame the urge to mislead and answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

She noticed he didn’t say it meanly, using none of his trademark sarcasm. He was being straightforward.

“Me neither.” she replied, also genuine. 

Her response earned her a pointed look. “I thought you had all this timer stuff figured out, Chen. You sure seemed to think so a month ago.”

“Yeah. A month ago. A lot has happened since then.” That was an understatement. “Since day one, you’ve told me you don’t believe in soulmates, then you turn around and say things like ‘I always see you’ and ‘it’s both, isn’t it’. You've sort of shaken up everything I thought I knew."

He smirked a little, but there was an edge to it. Regret, maybe? It was still difficult for her to decode his expressions when he worked hard to be inscrutable most of the time. “Well, in that case, I don’t know whether to be impressed with myself or apologize.”

“An apology would be nice.” Lucy said plainly.

“And what all am I apologizing for?”

“Would you like an annotated list?” she chuckled. “Because if so, we could be here all night.”

Tim looked a little ashamed as her words sunk in. “Look, this hasn’t been exactly easy on me either, okay? Things were hard enough before…” he fumbled over what to say next, landing on, “well, before you came along.”

  
“I know that.” Lucy whispered, thinking of Isabel without him having to bring her up overtly. She harbored no ill-will for the other woman; no jealousy, no anger. If anything, knowing Tim and meeting her had only made Lucy worry exponentially more for her well-being.

“I thought you were hurt tonight.” he admitted. “I asked West if he’d seen you, and he told me where you’d gone, so I figured that something must have happened during your shift, but Talia didn’t remember you getting hurt, so she couldn’t tell me anything.” He picked at the beer label, running over the loose corner with the pad of his thumb as a way of occupying his hands. “I was a little freaked out when you wouldn’t answer my messages.”

“Given what I know of your history, I can understand why you’d think the worst when someone you care about doesn’t answer.”

He didn’t agree with her assessment; that much was evident by the way his nose wrinkled when she said it. “Don’t go all psych major on me, Chen. I never said I care about you.”

“Oh, so you make a habit of running to urgent cares every time a rookie you train needs medical attention?” He didn’t respond to that. “Yea, I thought so.”

“Thought what?”

“You came to check on me.” There was no doubt, but she wanted to hear him say it himself.

“It’s not as simple as that, but no matter what I say…” he trailed off, appearing to struggle with what to say next. It wasn’t hard to imagine that his wrestling was due not just to a connection he couldn’t understand, but from loyalty to the woman he married. She knew enough about Tim to understand how seriously he took his marital vows. She guessed he wondered what sort of husband would he be if he acknowledged a duty of care for a woman that was not his wife.

Lucy spoke as a means to relieve him. “No matter what you say,” she began, “you feel that something is different now?” Even thought she was certain she was right, she expected him to shoot her down for even suggesting it and waited for him to say something snippy and contrarian. The response she anticipated never came.

Eventually, he confessed, “I still don’t know if I believe in soulmates, but I’m humble enough to admit that something’s happened that I can’t explain.”

Lucy took that confession in, though only for a moment. She wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to playfully retort, “No offense, Tim, but ‘humble’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe you.” Fortunately, he didn’t seem offended by her light dig at his expense. She swore she heard him chuckle before he took another sip of his beer.

“It wasn’t always like that, you know.” he whispered. “I used to believe in the timers. Maybe not the way you do, but I think was more open to it at least.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Isabel.” he said, followed by a whispered, “Sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear that.”

“No, it’s okay.” she was quick to say. “Do you want to tell me more?”

“… You really want to know?”

Lucy nodded.

He took a deep breath before speaking again. “We met when we were rookies and had this instant rapport. I’d never experienced that with anyone before her. I honestly don’t think I ever connected with anyone immediately the way I did with her. So, I figured if that didn’t make my timer go off…” he trailed off again, debating how to proceed. She gave him the space to figure out what he wanted to say next, afraid if she tried to prompt him she’d seem overeager. Eventually, he picked up where he left off. “I decided if my soulmate wasn’t Isabel, then soulmates weren’t real, because how could they be? I loved her more than I’d ever loved anyone, and my timer kept going like nothing had happened.”

She expected to be hurt by the truth, whenever Tim decided to tell it, but Lucy found she couldn’t muster even an iota of offense now that she knew more. How could she blame Tim for finding love the way he’d described it. If she’d felt what he had for anyone else in the interim, she didn’t know that she would’ve been able to resist either.

She wasn’t hurt, but she still believed she was owed answers. “For weeks now, you’ve told me you don’t believe in timers, and you weren’t always kind about it. You made me feel so small so oftenonly to turn around and say things that gave me hope.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” she asked. If she were braver, or if their situations were less enmeshed, she would’ve reached out to touch his arm. As it was, she just held her beer tighter. “Why did you let me feel alone in this?”

“You could have your pick with reasons.” She noticed he looked tired and worn as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’d already told you I don’t believe in timers. I’m married. I’m your TO. There’s a hundred different ways this gets complicated the more I’m transparent with you.”

“So what happens now?” Lucy asked. She didn’t know how she’d go back to training with him, knowing what she knew now, without some sort of guidance. “I promised Andersen it”-she wouldn’t let herself say _us_ \- “wouldn’t be an issue. ”

“And it won’t be.” he replied with a confidence that made the alternative appear impossible. “I wasn’t talking out of my ass when I said that our timers wouldn’t affect my ability to train you. I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“I never thought you would, but that doesn’t mean I won’t need clarity going forward.” When he scoffed a little, she insisted. “I can’t have you being a hard-ass on shift only to go soft on me suddenly for reasons I don't understand. You may be able to flip a switch like that, but that’s not me. I can’t do that. I have to have something clear and concise.” She briefly thought back to their conversation outside the urgent care.

_That’s who you were calling as? My TO? Or my soulmate?_

“I need to know which Tim I’m dealing with.” she said with finality. “I’ll never be a good cop if I have to spend even a second of my day wondering which one you’ll be. I need to have a hard line.”

A few minutes passed in silence as Tim weighed how to respond to her.

“Obviously the ideal thing would be to avoid talking about any of this during shifts,” he started, “but I don’t know how feasible that’s going to be in the long run. I mean, you met Isabel on day two. This is already a damn mess." He pondered it another minute. "I think a good starting point is I'll only call you Chen or Boot during our shifts. And when we’re off work or if there’s ever something personal, I'll call you Lucy. And then you do the same for me. Bradford on. Tim off."

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but she knew that probably didn’t exist. At least it was a defined boundary where before she’d gone without.

“That works for now.” she agreed. Then she asked, “So, Tim?”

“Yes, Lucy?”

“What did you mean by ‘you should know by now I can always see you’?”

He looked a little bashful that she’d even brought it up. “It sounds dumb, but I noticed it on your second day. There was that whole moment with our timers going off, but this was different. Even in a still room, or from across the bullpen, I see you first. Hell, sometimes you’re the only one I see.”

She needed that explained, if only to satisfy her own curiosity. “What do you mean?”

  
A moment passed where he thought about his answer. “Sometimes I’ll see you and it’s only you. I know there’s things happening around you, in the background there’s people or whatever, but you’re the focus. The first three or four seconds, the rest may as well be invisible." A little half-smile that emphasized the lines around his mouth crossed his face, but he caught himself, and it disappeared when he cleared his throat before draining the rest of his beer.

A blush crept into Lucy’s cheeks as her face broke into a wide grin, despite her attempts to restrain it. Tim took note and was only too happy to point it out.

“Try not to look too pleased with yourself.” he jibed.

She bit on her lips to fight the smile, then decided to reward his honesty with a little more of her own. “You grabbed me by my elbow on the first day, and it felt like I put my arm over a bonfire. It’s happened a few times now. If I touch you or you touch me, there’s a lot of heat.”

Tim looked down at his beer. “It doesn’t hurt you, does it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not nearly as intense as it was on the first day.”

He nodded. “Good.” Even though his response was only one word, she noticed visible relief on his face when she confirmed that the way their connection affected her did not cause her pain.

Lucy finished her beer not long after and, as they had reached something like a resolution, Tim decided to go. She saw him out.

“You’re back with me tomorrow.” he said to her as they stood by the door. “I’m sure Talia will be glad to have Nolan back.”

“Yeah, because I was such a burden for her.” she teased. “You’ll be glad to give Jackson back to Lopez, right?” she asked.

He shrugged and made a vague, non-committal sound. “Got a few of his kinks worked out. I think I’m returning him improved.”

“Thank you.”

At this, he gave her a look. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I’m not saying you did, but he’s my friend. It still means a lot to me that you helped him instead of just saying, ‘tough luck’.”

“Uh huh, sure.” He didn’t seem convinced, but she wasn’t going to try to argue her point; not when the night had largely been a victory. “Next time you’re hurt,” he said, “can you let me know? Or at least answer the phone?”

Shame washed over her before she admitted, “I wasn’t hurt tonight.”

This was news to him, and he seemed genuinely perplexed when he asked, “You weren’t?”

“No.” Lucy tried to meet his eyes but couldn’t quite maintain it. Her gaze instead focused on the still rumpled collar on his shirt. “I was thinking of getting my timer removed. I didn’t, but I came close.”

She looked up just in time to catch the briefest flash of hurt that crossed over his face, but it was gone in a blink. The only remaining evidence of his feelings on the matter was in the way he pursed his lips. They curved downward as he nodded. He understood.

“I’m not sure what I think matters much to you in this case,” he said after a pause, “but I’m glad you didn’t.” Then, he opened the door. “Goodnight, Boot.”

She didn’t respond until the door had closed and she heard his footsteps echo on the concrete staircase leading out of her building.

“Goodnight, Bradford.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early because next Friday is Christmas and I'll have to post a day late next week :( I hope a nice long chapter makes up for next week's delay! This update takes place between episode 1x4 "The Switch" and 1x5 "The Roundup". Thank you for reading and for all the reviews/kudos/encouragement here and on tumblr!


	8. Strategy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Love's not a competition, but I'm winning  
> At least I thought I was, but there's no way of knowing  
> You know what it's like when you're new to the game  
> But I'm not."  
> \- "Love's Not a Competition", Kaiser Chiefs

Lucy wasn’t proud of how long she stood, frozen, facing the closed door to her apartment long after Tim left. The night could’ve gone worse, that much was true, but she could not envision a scenario where it had gone _better_. At least now she knew she wasn’t alone in feeling affected by the timers, and now she had a boundary to adhere to during work; a guardrail to keep her in check during training, which she’d been asking for for weeks. Lucy attempted to focus on those things, the highlights, and the positives, and tried not to give too much mind to the questions she still had, or fixate on Tim saying that he was glad she hadn’t removed her timer.

She tried, but failed. She was only human after all.

She didn’t move until her stomach rumbled. She remembered then that she hadn’t eaten dinner, and the beer on an empty stomach was starting to disagree with her. Pizza for one person was a depressing order, so she opted to make the best of what was already in her fridge, which meant scrambled eggs and toast at almost 10 pm. She finished quickly and decided to follow dinner with a long, hot shower.

She’d placed Nolan’s watch on the bathroom counter before she stepped under the hot spray. Once more, her timer was visible, although the steam made the countdown clock fog up; all she could see was the glow of the green light, and that only if she looked closely. It was strange that she didn’t feel the antipathy of earlier when she looked at it now. Had it only been hours since she’d considered getting it removed? She wondered what that meant. Did that make her a flake? Emotionally volatile, maybe? No. No, that couldn’t have been it. Yes, she’d thought about removing her timer, but in the context of her life it was only a blip on the radar.

Knowing what she knew now, she was certain that it was not her, but Tim that had changed. Rather, he hadn’t changed as much as he’d started being honest, confirming there was a connection between them where previously he’d insisted there was none. If not romantic feelings, there were at least protective ones at play for him that made her look at it differently. She couldn’t despise it now, nor could she rightly hold on to her feelings of rejection. Not when she finally knew, if not the entire truth, a good portion of it.

Then there was what he’d said about being glad she’d kept it. Frankly, that had thrown her for a loop. She’d been almost positive he wouldn’t notice if she’d gotten it removed. Not only did he make it seem like he would’ve noticed, but removing her timer might have upset him on some level. Not that it was his decision to make; he’d made that clear, and she was glad he’d said as much, but the more she thought about removing her timer now, the less likely it seemed she would do it. It was a strange, but not unwelcome sensation to realize the idea of causing Tim unintentional harm repulsed her.

What would happen the next day, she wondered. It would be odd to see Tim tomorrow, wouldn’t it? She replayed every word of their conversation in her head, down to the nuance. He would be Bradford to her tomorrow, and she would be Chen or Boot.

She secretly couldn’t wait until the next time he called her by her first name.

The musing kept Lucy awake into the single digit hours, sleeping eluding her long after her shower ended. She lay awake in bed, feeling an alertness that all her attempts to rest couldn’t allay, and in her distraction she failed to set an alarm for the following day. She awoke the next morning to a brighter sun than she was accustomed to and the ringing of her phone. Her mother was calling, and it was a little after seven in the morning.

“Shit!” Her shift began at eight. The drive to the station took twenty minutes on good days, not to mention the time she’d need to get into uniform before roll call.

She was on her feet in a flash and shed her PJs first. Then she grabbed clean underwear and the first shirt and pair of jeans her hands landed on before hurrying to the bathroom. She only had time to splash her face with a handful of cold water from the tap after she brushed her teeth, then pulled a brush through the tangles in her hair that had accumulated over night. No time for breakfast; last two pieces of her loaf of bread would have to do. She ate hurriedly before she picked up her jacket and bag and ran to the door.

Her mother called a second time as she ran down the stairwell. She could spare ten seconds to speak in the run to her car, so Lucy answered just so her mother would leave her alone for the rest of the day.

“Mom, I really can’t.” she started to say, but was interrupted immediately.

“Lucy, sweetie, weren’t you going to tell me your timer zeroed out?”

She could not be serious. Her mother decided they needed to have this talk _now_? “How did you find out?”

“Please, I was there when you got it installed. I’ve been waiting for this as long as you have. Now, I gave you a month to get to know each other as a courtesy, but I think it’s time your father and I met the man, and with Thanksgiving coming up in two weeks, we both agree that would be the perfect chance to do it.”

This request, order, whatever, almost made Lucy drop her keys. “What? No. No, mom, you’re absolutely not meeting him.”

“And why not? We’ve given you plenty of time alone. He should want to meet your family.”

She bit back a groan. “I can’t have this conversation right now. I have to go. I’m late.”

“Already? My word, he works fast!”

“Mother!” Lucy was aghast at the insinuation, praying her mother was kidding. “No! I’m late for work. That thing I do at the police station? Roll call is in like thirty minutes.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot you’re still doing that.” She said, sounding not at all impressed, then gasped. “Lucy! Did you meet your soulmate during an arrest?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll call you later, Mom.”

“Don’t forget Thanksgiving dinner!” was the last thing she heard before she hit the red end call button with a great degree of satisfaction.

~

Lucy made it to the precinct with only ten minutes to spare, meaning she had to run to the locker room to get changed. Talia and Angela were already dressed but had decided to linger for whatever reason.

It was possible, Lucy realized, that they stuck around just to tease her.

“Oh, look who decided to join us.” Angela joked as Lucy whipped her locker door open and yanked off her shirt. “Big night last night, Boot?”  
She stuttered in her movements and wondered what Lopez could possibly know about her evening. There was no way Tim would tell her, and she was pretty sure Nolan hadn’t. Deciding it was just standard TO-on-rookie ribbing without any underlying context, she refused to let herself rise to the bait. “No bigger than usual, ma’am.” she said.

Talia didn’t look convinced, but neither did she ask any more on the subject. “Roll call in ten. You better hurry.”

She knew that already but didn’t dare say so, knowing any response she made to that effect could be interpreted as backtalk. She just quietly rushed through changing, never hating long sleeves more in her life, and was still sticking bobby pins into her bun as she ran to the briefing room. Sheslowed to a more moderate walking pace just a few feet outside the room to fake the appearance of ease.

Tim stood at the podium as she entered. She still felt frazzled as hell, until she met his eyes. He watched her walk in and she perceived the slightest hitch to his breathing, betrayed by the way his shoulders lifted slightly the second she came in to view. She remembered what he’d told her the night before -what always seeing her meant and entailed- and wished she could see what that felt like. She wondered what he thought when he looked at her in those moments, if he thought anything. Would it abate in time, like the warmth had for her, becoming something more manageable and not so distracting? But those were questions she’d save for later. For every two he’d answered, it was like ten replaced them. Lucy lowered her eyes and walked to her seat in the front row with Nolan and Jackson.

After she was seated, Tim called the room to attention. “All right, settle down. Settle down. Everyone knows what today is, and I just want to say… that Team Bradford is going to dominate once again.”

His statement, spoken with a comical amount of swagger, earned him boos and jeers. “Not this year, Blondie!” Lopez shouted from the back.

“Dominate what?” Nolan asked Jackson.

“The roundup.” he answered and grinned. “The TOs sponsor a competition for rookies a month into the job. Most felony arrests in one shift wins.”

“Should Nolan be competing?” Lucy spoke across Nolan to joke to Jackson. “You know how he gets.”

“Hey!” Nolan interjected. “There’s nothing wrong with liking a little healthy competition.”

“Healthy? You’re cutthroat and relentless.” Jackson replied, then added, “Which I respect.”

“All right, settle down.” Sergeant Grey said as he entered the room, an echo of Tim’s pretend call to order from earlier. He shot the training officer a glare from the podium. “Don’t think I didn’t see you up in my spot, Bradford.” Then he looked around the room. “I am aware that today is the day our TO units compete for most arrests, so let me be clear. Under no circumstance does the department approve or endorse this competition. I do not want to hear about your points. I do not want to hear about your strategy.” He looked at each of the rookie officers, then back towards the TOs. “Am I clear, Officer Bradford?”

“Yes, sir. “ Tim agreed, a night and day difference from his earlier crowing. “It’s not about winning. It’s about good policing and teamwork.”

No more mentions were made of the roundup throughout the rest of the briefing. When they were dismissed, Lucy rose to her feet and met Tim outside the briefing room. There was a moment where she wondered whether he would mention the previous night or greet her by name before reinstating the workplace boundaries; inexplicably, the thought put a small smile on her face.

“What’s that look for?” Tim asked as she walked up to him.

She shrugged. “No reason.”

Her smile was met by a smirk of his own, although his had an edge to it. “I’m going to give you to the count of five to get that smile off your face.”

“What?”

“You said you can’t turn it off and on like me? This is how you learn. Five, four, three, two.”

She stopped smiling.

“Good job, Boot.” He actually sounded proud of her.

And shit, hearing him sound proud made her want to smile, but she bit down on the inside of her cheek and kept her face neutral while he explained their game plan for the roundup.

“My team has won this competition for five years straight, and Team Bradford wins at any cost.” he said as he marched down the hall at a clip with Lucy close behind.

“But Sergeant Grey just said-”

“He said doesn’t want to hear about it, which is different than saying don’t do it.”

“Is today’s test on loopholes?” she joked. When Tim turned and looked unamused, she apologized. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“The scoring is like football. 7 points for a felony, 3 for a misdemeanor. Quality over quantity.” They came to a stop outside of the men’s locker room. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” she asked as he walked away.

Tim tapped one finger to the side of his head. “Strategy, Boot. You’re learning today.”

Strategy, as Tim called it (although he later referred to it insurance as well) turned out to be a wrapped, rectangular package that he carried under his arm. He nodded to Lucy to follow him as he strode across the precinct to the dispatch office.

Lucy had never been to dispatch before. It wasn’t like they gave a grand tour of the building when she started the job. A good deal of it was fend for self. If a rookie couldn’t navigate a building, they certainly couldn’t navigate the streets. Lucy wasn’t sure what to expect from dispatch, but she was surprised to enter a square shaped room with dim lighting, except for a few amber colored bulbs set into lamps on a few high shelves. A handful of employees were crammed into the office, donning headsets and clacking away expertly at computers as calls came in.

Tim knocked on the opened door twice as a courtesy. “Nell.” he said. There was a tone to his voice that Lucy had never heard before. It was pleasant, almost cheerful, even if it rang a little false, and he sported grin on his face that deepened the dimples at either corner of his mouth.

A woman turned around upon hearing her name, swiveling in her chair to look their direction, and her eyes widened upon seeing Tim. Nell was pretty. _Very_ pretty, in fact, with bright red hair piled high in two buns atop her head and a flawless cat eye underneath her winged-frame glasses. She dressed smartly, donning a cardigan over a knee length dress that hugged her ample curves.

Lucy didn’t consider herself a jealous woman, but she suddenly felt a little graceless by comparison.

“Hey.” Nell said, and Lucy sensed barely concealed longing in that one syllable. If Tim couldn’t see that this woman held a torch for him, he was clueless.

Then she thought of the gift tucked under his arm and understood. Nell was the strategy, their insurance, and Tim was far from ignorant of her feelings. The whole thing made Lucy’s stomach turn a little. She already had mixed emotions over the concept of the round up (after drilling into the need to take the job seriously, turning a whole shift into a game felt contradictory, to say the least) and knowing Tim planned to goose the numbers with a little bribery made her feel even worse.

“Look at you.” Tim said in that same charming tone. “You look amazing. You’re glowing. What’s your secret?”

“Oh!” Nell blushed, giggling as she looked down briefly. “I hiked Malibu Creek yesterday. You should try it sometime.” She looked at Tim again, hopefully. The unspoken invitation was about as subtle as a neon sign.

Tim glossed over it as if he’d missed the cue. “Listen, I saw this at the bookstore and thought of you.” He said and handed her the package. The whole exchange was heavy-handed. Lucy wanted to roll her eyes as Nell tore off the paper and squealed.

“Kilimanjaro! How did you know I want to go someday?”

“I’m good at finding things out, Nell.” Tim said, and Lucy was done with the conversation. She willfully tuned the rest out and instead sang an Aretha song in her head, wrote a grocery list, and occupied her mind any way she could while Tim shamelessly flirted to get prime calls from dispatch.

“Come on.” She heard him say to Nell, directing all his charisma at her to get her to bend to his will. It was a sight to see. He looped his thumbs through his belt, tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, and gave her a lopsided smile while asking, “Do it for me?”

Of course, the insistence that she couldn’t show favoritism was mostly for show, and all it took was Tim asking nicely for Nell to agree. They left dispatch soon after, and the smile on his face quickly disappeared. The facade had served its purpose. He was his usual, cranky self again.

“I’d ask what that was,” Lucy said as they walked down the hall to get geared up, “but I know the answer is going to disappoint me.”

“Good thing I don’t live to please you, Chen.”

She scoffed and replied, “Yeah, it’s a good thing you don’t.” _Because flirting with that poor woman to get her to cheat for you is some pretty juvenile behavior._ she thought.

He glanced at her; Lucy caught it from the corner of her vision. “You got a problem with me celebrating the unsung heroes of the LAPD?”

“Not at all. I just don’t like when it comes with caveats.”

Tim paused and faced her. “What’s the issue here? You’re my Boot, not my conscience. If you got a problem with the way I play the game, I’m sure Mahoney would love help with the drunk tank.” He pointed toward a holding cell where Officer Mahoney was dragging a mop back and forth, a pained look on his face. “Some heavy pukers last night, so I hear.”

She was just about to issue a half-assed apology when Lopez and Jackson marched into booking with two suspects in tow.

“You’re kidding me.” Tim muttered just as Angela asked with a knowing smirk, “You here booking someone?”

Tim grimaced, biting out a sharp, “No.”

Her smirk widened, becoming cocky. “Guess we’re first on the boards, West. 14 points.” The pair shared a fist-bump.

Tim turned to Lucy. “Let’s go.”

~

Despite his flirting and present for Nell, Tim and Lucy’s morning passed quietly. They received a handful of small, easily solved calls, but hadn’t booked a single arrest by ten. She tried not to be pleased by the turn of events, but couldn’t help but think it would be an example of cosmic justice if her TO had put his thumb on the scale and still lost.

Her personal phone buzzed in her pants pocket. The group text she, Jackson, and Nolan kept going had a few notifications in it, with the latest update being that Talia and Nolan had just completed their first arrest.

“Talia and Nolan are on the board.” she informed Tim. “Vandalism and felony assault of an officer. Ha!” She laughed as another text came through containing Nolan’s explanation of the assault. “The guy pushed Nolan off scaffolding onto a jump cushion. He’s okay, but still. Wild.”

Tim wasn’t entertained by her story in the slightest. “Call Nell. Put her on speaker.”

Lucy tried not to sigh as she dialed dispatch. Nell’s chipper voice pierced through the speaker, setting her teeth on edge.

“Hey Nell. It’s me.” Tim said, again forcing that flirty tone until his voice was practically dripping with it. “You haven’t forgotten about me, have you?”

“Oh, Bradford, of _course_ I haven’t.” she answered sweetly. Too sweetly. “We’ve been just a little slow. Oh. Oh wait! We just got a 911 call. DUI hit-and-run, teenage pedestrian severely injured. Black 528i seen heading eastbound on Melrose.”

“Perfect. Attach us to that, please.” Tim said, then added, “Oh and Nell? You’re the best.”

Lucy hit end call before Nell had a chance to respond to that and put the phone down a little too hard without paying attention. It slid to the floorboard, landing next to Lucy’s feet, but she made no move to retrieve it.

“What is going on with you today?” Tim asked.

“Nothing.” she fibbed. Of course, he caught it.

“You can tell me the truth or you can jog behind the shop.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, sir.” she answered. “Let’s just go get this guy.”

“Fine.” he said, and although he did not seem satisfied by her answer, added, “Keep your eyes peeled for our DUI.”

A few minutes passed as they drove, peeking down side streets and alleys looking for their drunk driver. Finally, they spotted the suspect’s vehicle barreling recklessly down Melrose.

Lucy called it in. “7-Adam-19, DUI suspect sighted heading east on Melrose.” she spoke into the radio. A brief chase followed, ending only when the suspect rounded a corner and collided with a metal gate. The vehicle rolled to a stop a few feet after.

“Watch him, he could try to run.” Tim told her as they exited the shop and approached the car. “LAPD. Hands where I can see them.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” the man inside the vehicle groaned, and Lucy soon saw why.

“Holy shit.” Tim looked at the windshield, then at Lucy. “This is a first.”

A pole from the gate had pierced the windshield. And the driver.

Lucy felt the blood drain from her face as she reached for her radio a second time and called for an ambulance and the fire department. Once dispatch confirmed the call, she went to the man while Tim returned to the shop for bolt cutters.

“Just hold still. Hang in there. The ambulance will be here soon.” She donned gloves, then carefully crawled into the backseat, coming up behind the man to apply pressure near the entry point. The flesh near the wound didn’t resist under her palms, making it difficult to stem the bleeding. She just needed to slow the bleeding until EMTs arrived, knowing every second counted with an injury this severe.

“Should I pull it out?” the man stuttered, lifting one blood-covered hand to the pole.

“Don’t move.” she ordered just as Tim returned.

“Stay still. Three. Two.” He snipped on the one, and the majority of the pipe could be removed, except for the part still stuck in the man’s torso. Tim tossed the pole aside before reciting the Miranda rights to the driver, following it with the crimes he was suspected of committing. As Tim read through the rights, the ambulance arrived and EMTs took over, allowing Lucy to step out of the vehicle and remove her soiled gloves.

“You’re required to provide a chemical sample if suspected of driving while impaled. Sorry! Impaired!” Tim’s lip twitched a little as he realized his gaffe. “You can choose between blood, breath, or urine. A refusal will result in the immediate suspension of your license for a minimum of a year.”

The driver agreed to the test just as the EMT shouted that they needed to get him into surgery, fast. Tim insisted on a blood draw first, although Lucy tried to make him wait. Tim was resolved on the matter. If they waited, his blood alcohol level would return to normal, he said. If they waited, they’d lose evidence critical to the case against him.

And if they moved now, Lucy thought, Tim would get his first arrest of the day.

She looked up at him, wary and a little uncertain. “So this has nothing to do with the 7 points?”

His eyes narrowed at her implication. “Criminals get hurt all the time, Chen. He doesn’t get special treatment for an injury that’s his own damn fault. Do you understand?” She nodded. “Good. Now call in our points.”

~

“You were going to get it removed?” Jackson asked Lucy over lunch. Nolan had not yet joined them, as he and Talia were finishing up their latest arrest. She’d decided to reveal the complete events from the night before when they sat down, because there was nothing to hide now.

“How does that even work?” he asked.

“Well, they have this tool that looks like a cross between a staple remover and a speculum-”

“Ew, no. No. Not that part.” he interrupted, waving a hand to get her to stop explaining. “I mean, how does that work as far as soulmates go? Does it break your… whatever to Tim? What happens?”

“No, it’s not like that.” she replied. “All it would do is make his timer go blank.”

“What made you change your mind?”

That was a little harder to explain, so she simply said, “Reasons.” Then her gaze traveled across the lot to where Tim sat with Lopez.

Jackson followed her gaze, then looked back at her. He understood, at least a little.

“Well, I can’t say I wouldn’t have been tempted to do the same in your position.” Jackson said after a moment, sounding more relieved than ever to have a timer-less wrist.

Just then, Nolan walked up. “Hey what’s up.”

At this, Jackson grinned. “Oh, you know, just enjoying that sweet, sweet taste of twenty-eight points to you losers seven.” Which moved the conversation away from her trip to the doctors office, for which Lucy was thankful.

The rest of the lunch hour passed quickly with most of it spent discussing points and entailing no small amount of competitive ribbing between Jackson and Nolan. Nolan technically wasn’t competing because of what Talia had decided, and although they’d hit some early luck, Lopez insisted on making Jackson play a clean game. It made her feel worse about the Nell angle of Tim’s plan. When she returned to the shop, her mood was subdued. Naturally, Tim noticed.

“Do I have to worry about your attitude affecting our chances?” he asked. She realized it wasn’t asked harshly, but neither did he seem too concerned. Too focused on winning, she figured.

Lucy shook her head. “No, sir. I’m fine.”

Of course she wasn’t fine, and as a result, Tim wasn’t convinced by her saying otherwise. “You understand, right? About earlier with the DUI? That wasn’t about points. It was about making sure he sees the inside of a cell. It’s important to always maintain perspective on the job.”

“To be honest, sir, I wasn’t thinking about the driver.” She replied, but did not attempt to elaborate further. What good would it do to point out the moral gray area his game plan occupied in the middle of their shift? What could belaboring the point possibly achieve?

Tim was not deterred so easily, though. “I wish you’d just tell me.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Okay.” _You asked for it._ “It’s pretty obvious that Nell has a crush on you, and we’re using that to win a game. Feels sort of low to me.”

He was quick to defend. “Nell’s just doing me a favor.”

“Yeah, because she likes you.” He could pretend otherwise, but anyone with a brain could sense the designs the pretty dispatch worker had on Tim Bradford.

“It’s not like that.” Tim tried to insist, but Lucy was quick to contradict him.

“Come on, Bradford. The present? The smiles? ‘But I am your favorite’?” There was no way he was ignorant to his own charisma, no matter how put-on it was.

Before Tim could repeat his denials, Nell called. Lucy answered but did not greet the dispatcher, instead letting Tim handle the conversation entirely.

“Hot damn, we’re back in it.” he said once they’d ended the call, and got the lights and sirens going. Once he noticed that she didn’t share his excitement, he chided, “Come on, Boot. A little enthusiasm wouldn’t kill you.”

So she feigned excitement (albeit poorly), pasted a thin smile on her face, but said nothing.

~

A brief firefight and one strategically-dispersed can of pepper spray later, and Team Bradford had added fourteen points to their total. They returned to the precinct to process the arrests. When that was done, Tim headed back toward dispatch.

Lucy stopped him. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“Nell’s shift ends soon.” he replied. “I’m going to see if she’ll hang around a little longer to help our team.”

She fell into stride beside him, although at his pace, it was closer to a jog for her. “I think I should do it.” she offered.

That made him stop dead in his tracks. He turned to look at her with a scrutinizing gaze, judging her motives. After a moment, realization dawned on his face, and he smirked. “Oh. I see what’s going on here.”

“You… you do?” Lucy stammered.

“It’s obvious.” he replied. “You’re jealous of Nell.”

That… well, he wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t what he thought. Yes, when she first saw her, Lucy envied Nell’s height and figure. She thought she had great taste in shoes, and damn did she look good in a brick red lipstick, but that was about the extent of her jealousy. She got the feeling, however, that Nell’s fashion sense wasn’t what he was thinking about, so she asked, “And why would I be jealous of Nell?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, then added, “You tell me, Boot.”

She knew any further protests on her part would not convince him she wasn’t jealous; if anything, they would just further entrench that belief, so she conceded. “Fine. Go talk to Nell yourself, then.”

Off he went again, this time alone. She watched him go and once he rounded the corner to the hallway where dispatch worked, followed at a distance. She came to a stop just a few feet outside the open door where she could hear every word without being seen.

All told, the conversation was brief. Nell’s shift was over, as Tim had said, and she was planning to leave. Tim pleaded with her to stay, which she eventually agreed to at the cost of one drink with him.

Lucy held her breath, anxious to hear how he would respond to this, her most overt move yet. Would he say no?

Shouldn’t he?

“Deal.” she heard him say.

He left the dispatch office a few seconds later and spotted Lucy immediately. She spoke first.

“Nell seems nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about this anymore, Chen.” he replied and tried to brush past her.

Lucy caught him by the arm before he could take another step. Maybe it was because she was angry with him, but she didn’t feel the heat she’d come to associate with touching him as her fingers grasped around his bicep. She didn’t dwell on it, though, too focused on the issue at hand to wonder why the sensation had gone.

“Does she know you’re married?” she asked. “Because I don’t think she’d be broadcasting her attraction to you the way she is if she knew. You are a married man flirting with a well-meaning woman to get better calls during a game of debatable ethics, and for what? A free beer? Bragging rights?”

He was visibly irritated with her when he asked, “What’s your point, Boot?”

“My point?” If he couldn’t divine her point from her questions alone, there was a chance he wasn’t as perceptive as she believed, but she knew as soon as she thought it that that wasn’t true. “My point is you’ve taught me better than this. You’re cunning on the job, but you’re not conniving. What you’re doing to Nell isn’t strategic; it’s cruel.” She let his arm go. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I guess I didn’t expect this kind of thing from you.”

Where her earlier comments had landed on deaf ears, this he understood entirely. How could he not? She practically hit him over the head with her meaning, but she took no joy from seeing how her disappointment affected him, and was only able to stand the sight for a moment or two before excusing herself.

“I’ll be in the shop,” was the last thing she said before leaving him alone in the hall outside dispatch.

~

“Are you going to be mad at me the whole night?” Tim asked as they entered their eighth hour on patrol.

Lucy looked at him from the passenger seat. “I’m not mad at you.”

He scoffed. “Really? Because you sure look mad.”

“Okay, like you’re one to talk. You always look mad.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. I didn’t even know you could smile until this morning.” she shot back. It was only a slight exaggeration.

Their argument was cut short as the phone rang. This time, Lucy answered it.

“Hi Nell.” she said.

“Officer Chen.” Nell tried not to sound disappointed, but didn’t quite make it. Lucy didn’t take it personally. “Bishop and Nolan just attached to a false alarm. Could be nothing, but could be something.”

“Can you send the address to the laptop?” she asked. “Thanks, Nell.” Lucy looked over at Tim, then added, “You’re the best.”

He wasn’t entertained by her haughtiness, but she didn’t care.

“Nolan and Talia attached to a canceled call.” she explained. “That’s weird, right?” He nodded. “Very. Buckle up.”

The drive to the address in the call was about ten minutes in the opposite direction they were heading, but Tim took some back roads that made it six. They rolled up to find Nolan and Talia sitting in their patrol vehicle, looking towards a darkened house.

Tim rolled his window down. “Heard you attached to a false alarm. Thought you might need some back up.”

“And how did you hear that?” Talia asked. “Did you bribe dispatch again?”

 _Again._ What could Lucy do but laugh? She chuckled to herself, even as Tim shot her a dirty look.

“Just thought you might need backup.” he said.

It was a good thing they’d come, because the supposed false alarm was not so false. The man who called 9-1-1 was the banker Talia and Nolan had arrested earlier in the day, and he and his wife were currently being held hostage by mafia members. They called for SWAT, but that would take several minutes. And judging by the way the criminals were threatening Mr. Askari and his wife, those were minutes they didn’t have.

They’d have to act fast. They’d have to act _now_.

“This way, Boot.” Tim motioned her to follow as they made their way to a balcony. Tim went up first and made it to the second level without incident. Lucy was not so lucky, and her stumble could’ve wrecked the entire rescue. Fortunately, it didn’t, and she just hoped that Tim wouldn’t hound her on it too much once they got back to the station. He didn’t; in fact, he scarcely said a word to her the entire drive back, keeping his eyes forward as he drove.

She tried not to speculate why that might be.

~

“How do we split up the points?” Lucy overheard Angela asked Talia after their shift had ended. All three women were in the locker room changing out of uniform. Lucy’s back was towards the TOs, and her ears perked up when she heard them discussing points. She pretended to look busy with her jewelry.

“I told you.” Talia said plainly.

“Okay, but how do I split them up right?”

“Just give him more. He won’t notice.”

It didn’t take a wild guess to figure out who they meant by “he”. Lucy turned.

“Are you trying to rig it so Tim wins?” she asked.

A look passed between Talia and Angela. “Why would we do that?” Talia hedged.

“I don’t know. I mean, the competition clearly means a lot to him.”

“It’s personal.” Angela replied with a finality Lucy could scarcely argue against. “From when he was a rookie.”

If it was from his rookie year, it was easy to figure out what else he connected with the game.

“Is it Isabel?” Both Talia and Angela looked surprised to hear that name leave Lucy’s mouth so easily. “I’ve met her a few times.” she explained. “I knew they were rookies together.” She stood and shut her locker, then asked, “Do you think holding on to this is what he needs?”

“This contest helps him feel close to her. Do you want to take that away from him?” Angela asked. Her mouth formed a hard line across her face, and her eyes were narrowed and unblinking as she stared down the rookie officer. For the first time, Lucy realized that Lopez was quite protective of Tim. It intimidated her to some extent, but she also felt secretly glad to know he had people in his corner that cared about him.

“I don’t want to take anything from him.” she replied, shrinking back just a bit from Angela’s critical stare. “I just want what’s best for him.”

“And you know what’s best for him, is that it? Because a timer told you so?”

Heat burned in Lucy’s cheeks at this accusation. “I never said that, ma’am.”

Talia was wise to intervene then, nudging Angela with her shoulder to get the other to stand down. “We’ve already had one competition today. No need to have another.” Then she looked at Lucy. “Can we trust you to keep the points a secret, Boot?”

Lucy nodded. “I won’t tell.”

~

The group convened near the food trucks, where Angela made a big show of announcing the winners following what she called “complicated math”. Lucy pretended to look surprised when she and Tim were announced the winners, graciously accepting high-fives from Talia and Nolan while Angela hugged Tim. Jackson walked away to sulk. She felt bad about that, but there was nothing she could do; she promised the other TOs she’d keep the truth a secret, and telling him they fudged the numbers would compromise that.

Before she could approach her friend to congratulate him on a good game, Angela walked up to her.

“I’m sorry about that. In the locker room.” she said and handed Lucy a drink.

She grabbed it a little too quickly, making some of the foam slosh down the sides.“Oh, shit. Thanks. And it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do.” Angela replied, and she looked truly remorseful as she explained. “I’ve known Tim for years, longer even than I’ve known Talia. For a long time, it was him and me and our fucked up timers against the world.” She took a gulp from her drink and wiped the moisture off with the back of her hand. “I guess I still get a little territorial over him.”

Lucy was tempted to ask what she meant by _fucked up timers_ , but held off. Instead, she said, “I didn’t know you have a timer.”

Angela was happy to show it to her. “I’ve got two months left until Mr. Right comes along. Or Mrs. I’m not picky.” She appeared wistful for a moment, an expression that faded as she looked at Lucy. “I can’t tell you much about what he did, just because it’s not my place to say. Hell, he’d probably deny half of it. The gist was I had a long countdown ahead of me, and Tim was eight years into a fourteen year countdown, so he knew a little something about long waits. Anyway, he helped me get through it. Always felt like I owed him after that."

She wondered if Angela would’ve been this forthcoming if she hadn’t snapped at her in the locker room; like absorbing her ire had been a proving ground of sorts. “I’m just glad he has people that care about him. Someone that cares enough to protect him even when he isn’t there.” She looked across the lot. At the opposite end, Tim was talking to Nell. From the looks of it, Lucy guessed they were about to have their agreed upon drink. “He can be a jackass sometimes, but I think he’s got a good heart.”

When Lucy glanced back at Angela, she noticed the other woman was fighting a grin.

“You really have him pegged, don’t you, Boot?” Before she could respond to that, Angela continued. “What do you think is going to happen with you two?”

If she had asked her that a month ago, Lucy wouldn’t have known how to respond. Now, she answered, “I think he’s going to make me a great cop. And if he’ll let me, I think we’ll be good friends."

Something in her answer pleased Angela. She cocked her head to one side and took a sip of her beer, smirking all the while. “Is that all you want?”

At the moment, yes. More importantly, it was all their current circumstances allowed. “He’s married.” she stated. “He loves Isabel. Timer or no timer, I can’t in good conscience get in the way more than I already have.”

The smirk deepened into a true smile. Her response had impressed Angela, and Lucy got the feeling that that was an important seal of approval to earn.

“You’re a good woman, Chen.” Angela declared, and pulled her into a quick hug. “I’m glad I don’t have to threaten to hurt you.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” Angela pulled away just as Tim joined them. “Oh, speak of the handsome devil.”

He frowned. “How many have you had?” He asked, pointing to her beer.

“This is my first. You know this is just my personality, Bradford. Although,” she paused and drained the remainder of her drink, then handed Tim her empty cup, “if you’ll excuse me, I need a refill.”

Once she was gone, Tim chuckled. “She is a mess.” he said, then looked to Lucy. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I already told you I wasn’t mad at you, Bradford.”

“Tim.” he corrected. “We’re off work. You can call me Tim now.”

“I already told you I wasn’t mad at you, _Tim_.” she repeated. “I was just disappointed.”

“Would you be less disappointed if I told you I came clean to Nell?” When a smile started to slowly spread over Lucy’s face, Tim laughed. “Yeah. I thought so.”

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth. That I’m married, but it’s complicated.”

“And did you get your drink?”

He winced. “No. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t want to get a drink with a married man.”

“I can’t say I blame her.” Lucy replied. “But also, her loss.”

“Her loss?”

“You see, I have no such qualms.”

“You also already have a drink.”

She took that statement as a challenge, promptly chugged her beer, then placed her cup in Tim’s hand. Now he held both her empty container as well as Angela’s, and was staring at her with a bemused expression.

“You’re as bad as Lopez.” he teased.

“There are worse things to be compared to. Let’s get you your drink.”

She marched him over to the food truck and ordered two more beers. Tim tried to grab his as the man passed them through the window, but she batted his hand away.

“This is my treat.” she said.

“We won the competition. It’s not your treat. It’s free.”

“Shush.” She held his beer back, cheating her shoulder to keep the cup just out of his reach. “Do you promise to never use your wiles for evil ever again?”

“My _wiles?_ ”

“Promise, Tim.”

“Okay, okay. I promise.” He pretended to look pained doing so.

She smiled. “Good. You can have your beer.”

He took it from her hand, and as he did, their fingers brushed. Again, Lucy noticed the conspicuous absence of the heat she’d come to expect from touching him.

“Wait a second.” she said, and put her hand on his upper arm. Nothing. Same thing when she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “Huh. That’s weird.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Um, remember that heat I told you about?” She dropped her arm. “I don’t feel it anymore.”

“Oh.” A look of confusion crossed his face. “What do you think that means?”

“Probably nothing.” she said quickly, as if he was depending on her reassurance. “My dad felt heat with my mom, but it didn’t last. I think he said only a few days or so. It probably just faded naturally like his did.” A thought came to mind, and she chortled. “Or maybe you finally pissed me off enough to make it stop.”

“See? I knew you were mad at me.”

“Well, of course I was mad at you, Tim!” she exclaimed, but waved her hand and moved on. “It’s fine now. You apologized-”

“- I did not apologize.”

“- And you promised not to do it again.”

“But I’ll probably break that promise, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “I like winning.”

“Whatever. Like I said, as long as you don’t use your wiles for evil.”

“You keep saying that word, and I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so you’re just that charming without effort? Really, Tim?” She took a sip of her beer as she waited for his defense. None came. “Yeah. I thought so.”

Drinks in hand, they returned to the group, which had congregated around one of the picnic tables. Jackson had gotten past his sulk and now sat beside Nolan on one of the benches. Talia and Angela stood in a pair beside it, but Talia was angled in such a way that her back was to Tim and Lucy when they joined them. Angela had the better view and watched them walk the whole way up, that telling smirk from before still on her face.

They stayed there for a good, long while to celebrate Team Bradford’s win. Sometime during Tim’s retelling of the the armored car fiasco, Lucy’s phone rang. It was her mother again. She declined the call, but stepped away to respond via text.

**_Sorry Mom. At a work thing. Since I know you’re probably calling about Thanksgiving again I’ll go ahead and tell you I won’t be inviting him. It’s not the right time. That’s all I can say. Maybe one day but not now._ **

She expected her mother to mull over her response and began to walk back towards the picnic tables when her phone buzzed in her palm. Her mother had replied.

**_Are you afraid we won’t like him?_ **

That was the last thing on her mind. In fact, she was fairly certain her mother would take one look at Tim and fall head over heels.

**_That’s not it._ **

**_Can't you at least tell me his name? Or something about him? I promise I won’t go snooping._ **

Given her experience with her mom, Lucy was cautious to believe her promise of not snooping… but she also knew submitting to her request now might buy her more time before she next badgered Lucy to let her meet him. Besides, how much digging could her mother really do with just a name to go on?

 ** _Tim._** she replied. **_His name is Tim._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope everyone had a nice Christmas (if you celebrate) or a lovely Friday (if you don't)! This chapter follows season 1 episode 5, "The Roundup". For the purposes of this story, I skipped the cold open (where Nolan rescues the kid from drowning) and we go straight from the events of the night before into the roundup.  
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> EDIT: please note that there is an edit to the end of the chapter in reference to Tim’s timer and countdown length. Just some clarification that’ll be important in later chapters.


	9. A Date for Lucy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's been my fashion to keep my head dry and get my feet wet  
> Step by step I've been letting you lead me to the deep end  
> Well, I learned my lesson, honey  
> Just when you think you're all adult swim  
> Is precisely when somebody shows you to the ocean"  
> \- "Aquaman", Walk the Moon

Chapter 9: A Date for Lucy

After a month that felt non-stop, for almost a week to pass without incident was disconcerting rather than comforting. Lucy worked during the days and studied at night. Sometimes she joined Nolan and Jackson for study sessions, but a portion of the time was spent on her own. She and Tim continued to get along, forming a functional working relationship and a tentative bond. They weren’t “besties” or anything by any stretch, but the relationship between them wasn’t nearly as contentious as it had been. She considered it a battle won, and on day five, made the mistake of assuming life had settled down at last.

Then six days after their roundup victory, Lucy’s mother sent her a screenshot.

She didn’t even know her mother knew how to do screenshots;she had never been very tech-savvy, after all. At a glance, she figured it was an error. It was only when Lucy looked closer that she realized the screenshot was of a Facebook page, and the Facebook page belonged to Tim.

A single comment from Mom accompanied the picture. **_He’s very handsome._**

Lucy called her immediately.

“Mom,” she began the second her mother answered, “you promised you wouldn’t snoop.”

“I didn’t!” her mother protested.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really!” She insisted, then added, “Your father did. You know I’m not on the Facebook.”

Lucy groaned. “It’s just ‘Facebook’. You told Dad?”

“Well, of course I told him! You can’t expect me to keep secrets from my husband.” If Lucy had known that her mother would involve her father, she would’ve taken preventative measures, like giving them a fake name. Or moving.

“How did you even find him?” she asked.

“There are only so many Tims working in the Mid-Wilshire precinct.” How had they figured _that_ out? Lucy had never specified where she was assigned (rightly guessing it would lead to breaches of her privacy). As if sensing her question, her mother explained. “We may have emailed Jackson asking where you were sent for the rest of your training`.”

Wonderful. Just wonderful. Lucy’s hand flew to her forehead, connecting with a smack as she moaned, “Oh, dear God."

“Everything else we could find, we found on the internet.” Mom continued. “People really aren’t careful about what they put on here, but not your Tim.” She tutted once. “He keeps his page locked up.”

“He’s not my Tim, Mother.” she groused.

“Oh, I can see that. Who is this woman in his profile picture?”

Lucy pulled the phone away from her ear to zoom in on the picture in question. It was Tim, but his arm was around a blonde she recognized. “That’s Isabel. His wife.”

Her mother tsked in her ear twice. “What a shame. I can understand why you didn’t want us to meet him.” Then with a sigh, she suggested, “Perhaps we can get a refund.”

Lucy blinked, quickly confused by the turn of their conversation. Her mother had always been the biggest proponent of timers. Hell, Lucy getting one as a teenager had been her idea. “What?”

“He’s a married man, Lucy. There’s obviously been some sort of mistake. He can’t be your soulmate.”

Her confusion morphed into disbelief. “Mom, no. There’s been no mistake.”

“Oh, Lucy, how would you know?”

She took a deep breath and weighed how much she wanted to tell her mother. If she took a step back, Lucy recognized there were tiers to the connection she and Tim had, and parts of it were not necessary for her to share. Her mother didn’t need to know that Tim was her training officer, or that they’d met during roll call, and it was certainly no business of hers that Lucy had already met Isabel twice under unfortunate circumstances.

There was also the fact by second-guessing Lucy, her mother had essentially undermined her own understanding of her feelings. Rather than raise a fuss, she decided to be gracious and overlook it for now (but if it persisted, she’d have no choice but to put her foot down). “I just know, Mom. Okay? I knew it the second I laid eyes on him.” She hoped her mother would not ask for more specifics.

Thankfully, she refrained, and only wondered aloud, “Did he feel it, too?”

This Lucy felt safe answering, and could answer pretty vaguely. “Yes. Took him a while to admit it, but yes.” She let the confirmation resonate, then added, “It doesn’t change anything, though. He’s married. He loves his wife, Mom. He loves her so much.” _And sometimes to his own detriment._ she thought, as memories of her encounters with Isabel sprang to mind unbidden.

A few minutes passed where neither Lucy or her mother said anything. Finally, Mom stated, “Well, if you’re absolutely sure nothing will ever happen between the two of you, maybe it’s time for you to start dating.”

“‘Start dating’? I’ve dated before, Mom.”

“Yes, I remember.” Her mother replied with obvious disdain. “Twice in high school and once in college. Bah! Those were boys. You should date a man this time.”

She began to disagree, then paused and recognized begrudgingly her mother might have had a point. After all, what did she have to lose? Tim had dated, hadn’t he? Not only dated, he’d gotten married. Turnabout being fair play and all that, wasn’t she entitled to a few dates herself?

Still, she felt hesitant. The last relationship with a boyfriend she’d had was pretty serious, or as serious as one could be at the age of twenty-one with seven or so years left on her timer. She didn’t think she had the capacity for flings, but she also didn’t want to jump right into the deep end.

“I’ll think about it.” she said, and her response was met with such an overjoyed squeal from her mother that she knew the inch she’d conceded was taken as total agreement.

“Wonderful! I’m so glad you agree. Now, there is this young pediatrician in my office building-”

“Mom.” she warned, stopping her before she could go farther. “I’m not letting you fix me up.” Her mother was already too invested in her love life; it was better to put a stop to that where she could, while she could. “I’m sure Jackson has a friend he could set me up with.”

“Oh, Jackson! I was so happy to speak with him for a minute the other day. How is he doing? How is John?”

Lucy was grateful then that the conversation turned away from her own failed romantic life, and was happy to get her mother up to speed on how both Jackson and Nolan were fairing in the program. When their call ended an hour later, both were in much better spirits, with her mother reminding her about Thanksgiving dinner next week and to give Jackson a call about a set-up.

She didn’t call, but she did text.

 ** _Hey, so. This’ll sound out of left field but do you have any friends you could set me up with?_** She asked.

She hadn’t expected a quick reply, but his response was sent rapidly and with way more enthusiasm that she anticipated.

**_Yes! Yes, absolutely! I’ve got a few in mind already that would be just perfect for you. What’s your type?_ **

Lucy had never thought about that before. The few guys she’d dated had been taller than her, but that wasn’t hard at five-foot-four. All three had had black hair. One of them had played guitar. Did that mean she liked musicians? But then how would that explain her fitness-obsessed boyfriend in college?

 ** _I don’t think I have a type._** she replied. **_Someone interesting, I guess? Is not an asshole a type?_**

**_… It’s not *not* a type._ **

**_Ok, then that. Not an asshole and interesting._ **

**_The bar is literally on the floor with that, Lucy. You don’t want to add anything else? Do you care about beards or muscles? Or tattoos?_ **

She took a second to think about it, but none of those things bothered her. Neither did they attract her. She guessed she was sort of neutral about the appearance of a guy and was about to say so when she paused. As shallow as she felt upon realizing it, there was one physical trait that was an absolute nonstarter for her, so she requested its opposite.

**_Brown eyes._ **

~

“I have the guy for you.” Jackson informed Lucy the moment she entered the briefing room. She hadn’t even taken her seat yet when he took out his phone and pulled up an instagram page. “His name is Cam Wellings. He’s a fitness instructor at the gym I go to.”

She didn’t scroll far down the page, pausing on the second photo on his grid. It was a professional headshot taken in the gym he worked at, so he stood next to the weight rack. From what she gathered, he was pretty tall. A couple inches over six foot, she estimated. Tan skin contrasted his smile, and two deep dimples sat equidistant on either side of his mouth. He sported an attractive amount of short scruff; not a beard by any means, but neither was he clean-shaven. Short black waves crowned his head, and his grin caused attractive lines to form around his warm brown eyes.

Her jaw dropped. “Holy shit, Jackson.”

He nodded with a grin. “I know.”

“He’s _gorgeous.”_

“I _know.”_ He took his phone back. “He’ll meet you at 8 at Seaside on the Pier.”

Lucy blinked. “You scheduled a date already?”

He looked at her askance. “Yeah. I wasn’t about to let you lose your nerve.”

“What if I had plans?”

Jackson scoffed. “Do you?” She didn’t, and so said nothing. “I thought so."

Before she could protest further, Nolan joined them at the front of the room. “Good morning!” he said brightly. “What’s up.”

She had started to say “nothing” when Jackson interrupted. “Lucy has a date tonight.” he said proudly.

Nolan looked at Lucy. “A date? Really? Anyone I know?”

She shook her head, feeling a little frazzled. “Jackson set it up.”

“Yeah, I did.” He sounded proud of himself and had just started to tell Nolan more details when Sergeant Grey entered the room, putting a stop to all conversations.

~

“Eyes on the road, Boot.”

So came Tim’s order later that day as she maneuvered down the highway. As luck would have it, he’d decided after roll call that today was the right day for her to give driving a shot. She was rightfully nervous, desperate to do a good job. That combined with her anxiety over suddenly having a date with a handsome stranger that evening, compounding until her stomach felt like a jumbled ball of nerves she couldn’t untangle.

“Sorry.” she said, tightening her grip on the wheel.

Tim glanced at her tense positioning. “Something on your mind?”

She shook her head once. “No, sir.”

He didn’t believe her. That much was clear by the way he maintained his stare, but he didn’t ask more, and she was glad for that. She had no idea how she would explain her date to him. That was, if he even cared, which he probably didn’t, because this was Tim. Even though they’d come to some sort of understanding, he still made it clear whenever necessary (which wasn’t often) that he was married and had no intention of changing that any time soon.

With only a few hours left in their shift, Lucy rolled their vehicle. She hadn’t meant to, obviously. It just sort of happened after she tried pull over a reckless driver. He gave chase and during the pursuit, she took a corner a little too hard. Tim was giving her orders and safety reminders the whole time, but despite his cautions and directions, she still underestimated how top-heavy the shop was. They went over, turned one and a half times, and came to a stop upside-down.

“That go how you planned it, Boot?” Tim said to her drily before radioing for help.

Extracting them from the vehicle took a while. So did the precautionary exam from EMTs on the scene. By the time all was said and done, only two hours remained in their workday. For the shame of rolling on her first day of driving, Lucy was assigned to the drunk tank. Shock of shocks, being surrounded by the smell of vomit did nothing to improve her jitters, but she was determined to make the best of it. She scrubbed meticulously, tried not to grimace as the mop slid over grime and gunk, and occupied her mind by planning her outfit for the evening. According to Jackson, Cam would meet her at a restaurant on the Santa Monica Pier. It was a little busier than she’d usually go for in a first date, but she wasn’t going to try to change the plan so close to go time. She wondered how the weather would be that night.

A knock on the door broke her out of her thinking. Tim stood in the doorway, but wisely stepped no closer. She noticed his nose crinkled at the smell, which she tried not to take personally. She’d mopped twice and still the stench remained.

“Shift ends in thirty and you still got paperwork. You about done?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He glanced out the door, first checking left, then right. When he looked at her again, his gaze revealed a touch of worry. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “Just a little sore.” Sore, with a big blue bruise on her left shoulder from where the seatbelt had dug into her skin, and of course embarrassed. “You?”

“Been through worse.” He chuckled joylessly. “See to that paperwork, then go get rested up for tomorrow, ok?”

“Yes, sir.” she replied.

She made quick work of the filing, then rushed through a shower, touched up her makeup, and bolted for home. Once there, she quickly slipped into her only little black dress. It was a fitted number, hugging every curve from just above her knee to her shoulders, and she’d bought it a month before her timer went off. The tags were still on it, dangling from the seam on the side by a ribbon and easily torn off. Being that it was November and a touch too chilly for bare arms, she added her blush colored leather jacket to the ensemble. Once she stepped into her nicest high heels and gave herself a glance in the closet mirror, Lucy called it good enough and was out the door.

~

Cam’s picture really, _really_ didn’t do him justice.

Lucy had expected him to be tall, but he cleared her by almost a foot when he stood to greet her as she walked towards him, having been directed by the hostess to their table. She was glad she’d chosen the black dress seeing as he’d dressed up a bit for the occasion as well. He sported a patterned button-down under a blue sweater with a pair of tailored slacks. She knew from scanning his instagram page that he was fit, but his outfit only hinted at his body, except for his arms. He’d rolled the sleeves on his sweater up halfway, revealing the tanned skin and the slight muscle of his forearms. At a quick glance, she saw no timer on his wrist and was relieved, having taken care to hide hers under Nolan’s watch once again.

“Lucy.” he said as she reached the table. Her pulse jumped as he smiled at her.

“Cam.” She held her hand out to shake his and took note of how hers felt when he took it. His hand dwarfed hers, rough in places thanks to his job, but soft in others, and warm. Not a fire, she thought to herself, but why would it be? It was unreasonable -unfair, even- to seek that feeling from anyone else.

They talked over dinner, dessert, and through two drinks each, ending the night with a walk on the pier. They were lucky that, while mid-November, the weather cooperated enough for both of them to keep warm on the walk. At some point he asked to put his arm around her shoulder, and without pausing she let him. It was easy to curl into his side, and a few minutes later she wound her arm around his waist.

Cam kept the pace slow, almost meandering, and continued to talk as they went. He told Lucy about how he ended up in fitness following a modeling career that failed to take off. Lucy explained how she became a police officer after deciding to abandon her psychologist goals halfway through her master’s program. There was an ease to their conversation, an instant rapport, and she almost tripped over her own feet at the thought because she knew where she had heard that before.

She had managed not to think of Tim the whole night and was disappointed in herself for doing so now.

“Look, Cam,” she began, simultaneously pulling back from under his arm. “Um, I’ve had a really nice time tonight.”

“I’ve had a nice time, too.” he replied.

“Good. Good, I’m so glad… but, I have to tell you something.” She looked up at him and hesitated, debating how to broach the subject of her timer. Would he ask about her soulmate? That would inevitably lead to her revealing the enmeshment of both with her job, and that was too much for a first date. She gulped once before he interrupted her. 

“Is it about your timer?” He asked, then smiled.

Lucy blinked, briefly overcome by disbelief. “Did Jackson tell you?”

“No, but,” he took gentle hold of her wrist and pointed to Nolan’s watch on her left arm, “I know a man’s watch when I see one, and I can’t imagine you’d wear this unless you had something you thought you needed to conceal.”

She covered as much of the band as she could with her other hand. “Would you believe me if I said it was a long story?”

He covered her fingers with his own. “Lucy, you could tell me the sun rises in the west and I think I’d believe you.”

At that, Lucy laughed, even though his blatant flirtation made her blush. “Wow. That was quite a line.”

He didn’t look ashamed in light of her teasing; in fact, he appeared pleased with himself for having made her laugh. “Did it work?”

She shot him a single sidelong glance. “I’ll have to let you know.” Then, with a pull on his arm, she said, “Come on. Walk me to my car? I’ve got an early shift and I’m sure you’ve got… I don’t know. Weights to lift?”

He chuckled. “I teach a morning class tomorrow. Lead the way.”

The rest of the walk passed in pleasant, companionable silence. While his arm was no longer around her shoulders, Cam now held her hand, and Lucy was pleased to discover she liked that just as much. They parted with polite goodbyes and a promise to see each other again soon. She had just buckled her seatbelt when her phone buzzed in her bag. It was Cam.

 ** _Too soon to text?_** he asked.

She grinned and looked out her driver’s side window. He was walking away, phone in his hands, and even from a distance Lucy could see the dopey smile on his face.

 ** _Not at all._** she texted back. ** _Your timing is perfect._**

~

Lucy replayed the evening in her mind as she drove home, combing over the night from beginning to end. Cam had been a perfect date the entire evening; smart, courteous, talkative, and inquisitive. He was also handsome as _hell._ He looked like he’d walked off the cover of a romance novel, and while that hadn’t been on her list, suffice it to say she certainly wasn’t angry about it. He held doors for her, asked before initiating physical contact, and didn’t try to kiss her goodnight when they went their separate ways. She couldn’t have dreamed a more perfect guy.

Overall, the date itself had been good. Maybe not great, but that could be because her standards were skewed by being out of practice. He was attractive, he’d been charming, and she’d had fun, and by the end she considered him a friend. It wasn’t hard to imagine that evolving into more with time and care.

She sighed. And still…

Still, it was nothing like fire and enveloping silence, blue eyes and _I always see you_ s. It was comfortable, and easy, and almost familiar how well they fell into step with one another in both figurative and literal ways. Put more simply, it was nice, but would that be enough?

She didn’t know for sure, but Lucy wanted to believe it could be. With the right guy, and at the right time, it could be. It would be.

It would have to be.

~

Lucy was intentional in arriving early the next day to make it up to Tim. Larger fuck ups (like failure to restrain a suspect properly, or crashing your shop on the first day driving) earned grief from the other officers for both the rookie and their training officer. For all the teasing she’d get that day, he would get as much and possibly even more. She guessed it would put him in a bad mood and decided to load up their shop early as an olive branch, then reported to the briefing room.

Tim was already there ready to give her a rundown; but first, he wanted to ask how she was feeling. Did she rest the night before?

“I’m fine.” she insisted when he forced the issue, but did not lie and say she rested when she had not. “A little bruise on my arm, but I hurt my pride more than anything else. How are you?”

Tim somehow managed to look both stern and entertained as he replied, “I’ll be better if you never drive again.”

Well. She couldn’t say she didn’t earn that particular dig.

Before she could respond (she planned to once more apologize profusely) Jackson entered the room, practically vibrating with energy as he walked up to Lucy. He was so excited to hear how her date went that he failed to realize she was already having a conversation with Tim.

“Wait. What date?” Tim asked Lucy. “When did you have a date?”

_Dammit._

“Uh…” Panic clouded Jackson’s face. “Did… I say date? I meant… well, damn. It’s really hard to think of things that rhyme with date on the fly.” He looked at Lucy with pleading eyes.

She faced her TO, squaring up to him before she stated, “I had a date last night.” as nonchalantly as possible. Then she pulled her notebook out of her pocket, flipped to a blank page, and pretended to be ready for notes. “What’s on the agenda today, sir?”

Not so much as a scribble made it into the notebook, though, because ten seconds later, Nolan and Bishop entered the room discussing Officer Hawke. Lucy groaned almost on instinct upon hearing the veteran officer’s name. They’d all sat under his instruction at the academy, and she’d loathed every second. How he had become a teacher was beyond her, considering he had very little practical insight into the job and was more concerned with pretending to be John McClane than policing effectively.

Learning that Tim had worked with Hawke in close proximity didn’t surprise her, but neither did it impress her. Rather, she was grateful some of the other officer’s habits had not rubbed off on her TO in a noticeable way.

“Nolan and Hawke hung out last night.” Talia said, bringing Lucy back to the present with a jolt. Ugh. Really? She loved how friendly Nolan was, but its downside was sometimes he had no standards for the company he kept.

“Hawke and Nolan?” Bradford scoffed.

“Oh yeah.” Lucy confirmed. “They were close at the academy. Bonded over… I don’t know. A shared interest in old stuff?”

At this, Nolan objected. “The Beastie Boys isn’t old.”

She patted his arm playfully. “They formed before I was born, but okay.”

Once again, Sergeant Grey was Lucy’s personal version of being saved by the bell. He entered the room and started in with the day’s orders immediately. She had no time to dwell on her date the night before, or Jackson blowing up her spot, or (oddest of all) the Beastie Boys as their superior handed out assignments.

Tim and Lucy were given a search warrant for one LeShawn Halvorsen. His apartment was a fifteen minute drive from the precinct, which Tim took as an opportunity to ask questions about her date.

“So… a date.” he began, then trailed off, as if that minuscule sentence were an entire question on its own.

Lucy was glad they’d laid a boundary long before her date with Cam. It made it easier to resist his inquiries. “Yes.” was all she responded with.

“Didn’t know you were dating, I guess.”

“You didn’t ask, sir.” The sir was a little more pointed than it needed to be, she admitted to herself, but oh well. They had an agreement. A boundary. He didn’t get to compromise it just because he wanted to hear about her nightlife.

“Yeah, okay.” He gave in quickly, and she was almost disappointed. She expected a little more fight from him.

They soon arrived at their suspect’s apartment complex; a truly seedy place. Just walking in to the building made Lucy feel like she needed a shower. Halvorsen’s apartment was no better. There was a fetid smell that assaulted her senses the moment Tim broke down the door, and it didn’t improve the longer they were in the apartment. Nose-blindness had a limit, apparently. While Tim detained LeShawn, she searched for the money he’d stolen, crawling on her hands and knees over the filthy carpet. As if that weren’t vile enough, when her initial search turned up no results, Tim had a disgusting suggestion. No, disgust wasn’t the right word. Grotesque was more accurate.

“Saw a box of sex toys in the master bedroom.” he told her, his lips quirking a little as he saw her face fall in disbelief. “You might want to glove up.”

When it became clear he wasn’t kidding (and she stood there, stock still for a good ten seconds, waiting for him to say “gotcha”), Lucy put on gloves and went to the master bedroom.

The box of toys were not well hidden, and dear Lord, did LeShawn have no sense of hygiene at all? It took all her fortitude not to vomit as she rifled through dildos and vibrators, still slick with… Nope. No. She wouldn’t even think it.

No matter how foul the box of toys proved to be, neither that or the toilet turned up any results. She returned to the living room empty handed, and was furious to see Tim seated with the stolen items on the table.

“What. The. Hell.” she bit out.

Tim had the audacity to look innocent. “What?”

“I’ve been back there for twenty minutes, elbow deep in Caligula’s toy chest, and you’ve had this the whole time?” If her tone took on a frantic edge, she’d apologize for it later.

Tim smirked. “Whoops.”

Her hands balled into fists at her sides, making an awful squelching sound as they did, reminding her that her blue latex gloves still bore the evidence of Halvorsen’s depravity. Again, bile rose into the back of her throat until she peeled off the gloves and tossed them aside.

She would’ve loved a shower (and to bleach her brain), but she was given only a minute to compose herself before Tim ordered her back on her feet. They had their evidence and LeShawn needed to be taken in for questioning. They returned to the precinct with the stolen money, merchandise, and suspect, and were back out on the street within the hour.

It would’ve been better if they’d stayed put, Lucy soon learned. A call from dispatch came. Hawke was on the run. The same Hawke that had trained her, that had trained Nolan, that had worked with Tim. She hadn’t expected the hurt look that crossed his face upon hearing that they needed to bring in his one-time partner. Even if she had, it wouldn’t have made it any less painful.

“I can’t believe we’re hunting Jeremy Hawke.” he confessed as they pulled up to a vehicle dispatch had pinged for his cell phone. “I mean, the man bleeds LAPD.”

Lucy said nothing. What good would contradicting Tim do? He had his own opinions of the guy; he had only good things to say about him, and yet he’d let Tim down. She didn’t need to rub salt in the wound by stating her opinion of him.

The ping led them to an RV parked by the curb outside a motel. It was an older RV with Utah plates, and from the BOLO they knew Hawke drove a truck. It felt like a diversion, but they’d need to confirm.

Tim knocked on the RV door and after a minute, was greeted by a stranger, not Hawke. With his permission, they searched the exterior of the camper. It didn’t take long for them to find Hawke’s phone.

“He knew we’d track his cell,” Tim said, “so he planted it on someone going anywhere he’s not.”

“He’s thinking like a criminal.”

“Worse. Like a criminal cop.” His face hardened as he said it, replacing his earlier disbelief with anger.

The rapid change was so startling, Lucy asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” he replied, then cleared his throat and pocketed Hawke’s phone. “Come on. We gotta check in with the Captain, let her know this was a dead end.”

On the chief’s orders, all their efforts were diverted to finding Hawke as quickly and quietly as possible. Which was harder than it sounded when a cop like him -smart and resourceful, but also a little unhinged- decided to break bad. Talia and Nolan got close to apprehending him, but their effort fell apart when they realized Hawke’s son was in his truck. That info coming over the radio turned Tim’s anger into palpable rage.

“That motherfucker.” he said through clenched teeth. His fists tightened on the wheel as he drove toward’s Nolan and Bishop’s location. “7-Adam-19, we’re on intercept course with Hawke’s truck. Three blocks out and closing.”

Lucy clutched the handlebar above her seat as Tim stepped on the gas. “Is this safe with Hawke’s kid in the car?”

“Hawke doesn’t know we’ve blocked the streets or that we’re turning the lights green to funnel him toward us. To him, it looks like we’ve fallen back into track mode.”

“And all the green lights won’t look suspicious?”

“He won’t notice.” Tim answered confidently. “It will appear to be nothing.”

It was a decent enough plan, and just might work. “You’ve got a tactic for every situation, huh?” Then she asked, “What if you get robbed at gunpoint?”

“Easy.” Even though they were currently engaged in a pursuit, Tim never turned down an opportunity to brag about his own cleverness. “I carry an empty wallet. Drop the fake, pull my piece, and goodnight nurse.”

“Then where do you keep your cards and money?”

“Money clip behind my belt.”

“Okay, you’re officially weird.” she said with a short chuckle but quickly sobered. They were nearing the interception point.

Then Hawke took a hard left, and their carefully laid trap went up in smoke. Tim guessed that he must still have access to his police radio. This theory was soon proven correct as Nolan reached out to him by name, and he responded.

It was worse than they could’ve guessed. Not only was Hawke running, but his son was a willing participant; not a hostage like they’d feared.

Since they couldn’t use the radios without Hawke hearing, Talia called Lucy’s phone. The four of them theorized what Hawke’s plan could be. Tim had the best pulse on what Hawke might do based on the summer they worked as a duo, but it was Nolan who deduced they were going to the mall because of the cover from airships and foot patrol the parking garage and crowds provided.

As they ran into the Fair Street Mall, Tim radioed for backup. The crowd parted for the officers as they hurried through. Nolan and Talia went after Hawke while Lucy and Tim hurried to secure a perimeter, involving mall security as their aid until additional units arrived.

They worked fast, but Hawke still managed to elude them, although his son Logan was now in their care. The other units and Sergeant Grey had come. Logan was sent back to the station with one of the teams while the rest convened to discuss what to do now. Again, they ran through the possible ways he could continue to escape the police.

“I’d steal a car, get lost in the stream heading out.” Lucy suggested.

Bishop had her own ideas. “Change clothes, pull the fire alarm. Easier to blend in with the fleeing crowd.”

“Sewer system.” Tim said, and Lucy cringed. Of course he would come up with something extreme.

A call came over Grey’s radio, interrupting the discussion, with a report of a gunman six blocks away.

“That’s how I’d do it.” Nolan exclaimed. “Call in a false report. Pulls manpower away, divides our resources, frees up an exit. That’s Hawke.”

Lucy though it was as sound an idea as any, but Sergeant Grey took a little more convincing. It was Tim throwing his support behind Nolan’s instinct that clinched it, and they moved forward with a plan that lulled Hawke into a false sense of security by having some units pretend to answer the fake call.

The remaining units split up to stealth-search the garage. Lucy lost sight of Tim between the cars, but it wasn’t long before she heard the sounds of an argument, followed by a scuffle.

Both Talia and Lucy reached Hawke at the same time, where he had engaged both Nolan and Tim in some testosterone-fueled test of manhood.

“Hey!” Talia said as she walked towards the group, releasing a stream of pepper spray into Hawke’s face. Even blinded, he still tried to swing at Tim, so Lucy tased him and stopped him once and for all.

If anyone asked, she didn’t find tasing him satisfying. In truth, it was incredibly cathartic.

She kept her stance while Talia bent down to cuff Hawke. As she placed the clasps around his wrists, she shot a dirty look at both Tim and Nolan. “You were supposed to arrest him, not get in a brawl.”

Once Nolan and Talia had marched him away, Lucy walked up to Tim. “Are you all right?” A few of Hawke’s punches had connected. His lip was split, his uniform rumpled, and he’d have one hell of a shiner on his right eye if he didn’t get ice on it soon.

“I’m fine.” He replied, but winced as he gently prodded the bruise on his cheekbone.

“Well at least you gave it back as good as you got it, right?” She’d meant it to sound light, but he didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m sorry. I know you really respect Officer Hawke.”

“Yeah. I did.”

She cleared her throat once. “I’ve gotta be honest with you. I didn’t like Hawke. I had him at the academy and I thought he was full of shit. I’ve worked with a lot of cops at this point, and he wasn’t the best one by a long shot.”

He must have realized she was trying to make him feel better, so he smiled more for her sake than his own. “And who’s the best one?”

“Bishop” she replied without missing a beat, which earned her a genuine laugh from him. “But you’re a close second. Hawke wanted to be a badass and he thought that’s what made him a good cop. Everything he taught at the academy revolved around that idea. But you don’t do that, Tim. From everything you’ve shown me, you try be a good man, and that makes you a great cop.”

To her surprise, he went a little pink upon hearing her praise. “Thanks, Chen. That means a lot.” He quickly soured the mood when he added, “But don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you for wrecking.”

Rather than quip back something witty and biting, Lucy took it in stride. "Don’t worry, sir. I’d never expect that from you.” She patted his back twice as they turned to walk back to the shop.

Her hand was still on Tim’s back between his shoulder blades when she remembered what he said about his money clip. She glanced down and, sure enough, could see the clasp shining against the black leather belt. All it took was a little fast, deft maneuvering, and then the clip was in her hands and on its way into her pocket with Tim none the wiser. She couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her lips, although she tried to hide it behind her hand.

Tim still heard it and looked back at her. “Something funny?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Uh huh. Not sure I believe that.” A moment followed where they walked in silence, then Tim asked, “Did it have anything to do with your date?”

“What?”

“You laughing just then. You thinking about your date?”

“Actually, no.” She replied, then asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t,” he retorted, “as long as it doesn’t affect your ability to do the job.”

“It wont.”

“Good.” Another few steps. “So, what’s his name?” When she didn’t reply right away, Tim looked at her, indicating that he was waiting for her to answer.

“Uh, Cam. Cam Wellings.”

He snickered. “What kind of name is that. ‘Cam’.”

She knew he was trying to rile her up, but Lucy couldn’t help but get a little defensive on Cam’s behalf. “It’s a normal name.”

“Cam Wellings. Isn’t that the name of that one guy on ‘Frasier’?”

“Okay, if you’re going to be mean, I don’t want to talk about it.” she replied. For good measure, she jabbed, “And ‘Frasier’, really? You and Nolan should talk more about your love of old stuff.”

At this, Tim took umbrage. “‘Frasier’ is not that old.”

“If it’s from before 1995, I probably don’t remember it.”

This made Tim ask, “Just how old are you?”

It was a question they’d managed to avoid thus far. She knew there was a gap between them, but had no clue how large. “Twenty-eight.” Lucy replied, then asked, “How old are you?”

“Thirty-eight.” he answered. “Well, that explains why you keep calling the good music and shows old. It’s not old, you just missed it.”

Lucy did some quick calculating in her head. “So you were twenty-four when you got your timer?”

He paused. “… No. Bit younger than that.”

That didn’t make sense. “But the timer only counted down for fourteen years.”

“Yours did.” he replied. “I had a blank timer for the first six years.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Your timer was blank for six years?” Would he ever stop surprising her? “I’m sorry, I’m just a little mind-blown. What made you keep it? Why did you wait?”

He didn’t answer, and to her disappointment, deflected instead. “Come on. We should get back. If we hurry we can run your boyfriend’s name through the database before our shift ends. See what we find.”

Lucy wasn’t ready to let the topic drop, but knew by now that once Tim decided he was done talking about any given thing, nothing could change his mind. She didn’t like being deferred yet again, but still followed as he picked up the pace. “We are not running his name through the database.”

“Oh yes we are.”

They argued the point the rest of the walk back to the shop. Tim insisted that it was a common practice for cops to look at rap sheets for potential significant others, but Lucy maintained she didn’t want to invade his privacy in such a way. If there were things in his background of concern, she wanted to find them out organically.

“There’s already so much about me dating anyone that’s inevitably going to be complicated.” she told him, knowing that he, like her, associated the adjective with their own relationship. “Let me just have this one thing?”

To that, Tim had no response. She had won the argument.

~

According to Angela, there were three bars Tim frequented. The food truck circle outside the precinct, which hardly counted as a bar. Some place called Stoli’s over on La Brea Avenue. Lastly was Scotty’s, a cop bar for force veterans only.

Lucy knew Tim wasn’t at the circle (she’d checked). A call to Stoli’s showed he wasn’t there either. That left Scotty’s.

She brought up the bar on her phone and dialed. A gruff voice answered, grunting at her once as she asked to speak with Officer Tim Bradford.

Sure, she could’ve just called his cell; but this was so much more dramatic, and way, way funnier.

Tim picked up the receiver a minute later. “Yeah, Bradford.”

She grinned to herself. “Never tell a crook where you hide your money.”

A second passed where Tim tried to place the voice. “Lucy?”

“After you got your ass kicked, I grabbed your money clip.” She withdrew said clip from her pocket, turning it over in her hands. “Gee, Tim. How ever will you pay for your bill?”

“… You are in _so_ much trouble.”

Yeah, probably, but it was worth it. “You know, I could bring it to you.” She flipped the clip over a half-turn. This side had his photo ID. She skimmed over his stats, filing away his birthday (July 17th) for future reference. “But it’ll cost you a drink.”

Tim hesitated, then whispered, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Lucy.”

She deflated instantly, all her good vibes evaporating with a single sentence, and failed to speak for a long enough stretch that Tim asked, “You still there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here.” She put the clip away. “Well, in that case, maybe you could wash the dishes?” A memory from this morning crossed her mind, and she added a little sarcastically, “But you might want to glove up.” Then she ended the call.

It was tempting to stew over this rejection, to mull it over without end. Why had he said no? Weren’t they in a better place? They’d been alone before without issue, so why did he say no tonight?

But she put a stop to the questions before any of them could take root. It wasn’t her first choice for the evening, but it wasn’t like she had no other options.

She dialed Cam and felt a little better when she heard his voice come through the speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Lucy.”

“Lucy.” She could hear his smile all over her name, evident even on a phone call. “What can I do for you?”

Already this conversation was better than her call with Tim. “Well, Cam, my night is suddenly free. Are you busy?” He wasn’t, and he was thrilled she called.

As they talked, a part of her recalled what Talia had once told her; her speech about deserving to choose and be chosen was never far from Lucy’s mind. It was too early yet to know whether that applied here, but if this -having someone excited to hear from her, hearing his joy just in her name- was what being chosen was like…

Well, Lucy didn’t hate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR! Wishing you all a brighter 2021. :)  
> Many thanks to stargazerdaisy and siahana for letting me bounce ideas off them and just being sweethearts in general!
> 
> A few (more) things!  
> \- The Frasier character Tim references is Cam WINSTON, not Wellings. So he was half-right!  
> \- Cam Wellings is an OC (obviously). I was a little nervous about introducing another romantic interest for Lucy, but I also feel strongly that she would benefit from seeing what a relationship with someone else would be like rather than hang around waiting for Tim for another 20 chapters. She deserves better than that, don't you think? If you hate him, don't worry; he won't be a permanent fixture. This is a Chenford fic, after all!  
> \- In my mind, Cam Wellings looks like Justin Baldoni a.k.a. Rafael from "Jane the Virgin", which has been *lots* of fun for me. Looking at Justin Baldoni pictures and calling it "research"? There are worse ways to spend an evening!  
> \- I will need to take a short break. Thanks to the holiday I fell behind on writing. I like to have the next week's chapter done before posting the current week's chapter, but since I got almost no time to write during December I've caught up to my completed content. Unless a miracle happens and I manage to write and edit three chapters in the course of a week, expect the next update on January 15th. I'm very sorry to do this and hope everyone understands. At least we have season 3 coming this Sunday, right?  
> If you made it to the end of this note, thank you! See you again on the 15th!


	10. Isabel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Shield your eyes from the truth at hand  
> Tell me why it'll be good again  
> All those demons are closing in  
> And I don't want you to burn"  
> \- "Bright Lights and Cityscapes", Sara Bareilles

Lucy didn’t hate being wanted. In fact, it came on so quickly and with so much force that she was a little unprepared for it. If she’d taken a step back, she would have been better prepared to assess the harm refraining from dating while waiting for her timer to hit zero had done, not to mention the hits she sustained to her confidence and sense of self after meeting her soulmate only to find him married and uninterested.

As a result, once Lucy got a taste she wanted it all and was willing to move fast to get it. Cam didn’t accompany her to Thanksgiving with her family (still too early to subject him to her parents and all their opinions about her life and career), but she did meet him after for dessert at his place. Fitness instructor or not, he made incredible pecan pie with no corners cut under the pretense of being healthier. She had a long shift the following day, so they made plans for him to come over with dinner once she got home around nine o’clock on the night of Black Friday. He spent the night and made the coffee the next morning. They ordered in for breakfast.

Cam had no timer of his own. She learned that the second time they went out, although the absence of a timer was not for a lack of trying on his part. He’d been saving up for a timer since he was a teenager and got it installed only for his body to reject it. Unbeknownst to him, he was allergic to the metal used as a conductor of the body’s naturally-occurring electrical currents in order to power the countdown. The reaction caused an injury to his left forearm so severe he’d needed physical therapy as a young adult to regain strength and mobility in his wrist. It was a terribly unlucky turn of events; only a handful out of one-hundred thousand ever experienced adverse reactions, he claimed, and even less to the extent he had. “But,” he’d told Lucy as he finished the story, “that’s when I learned more about the body and its mechanisms. Ultimately, that’s what inspired me to get into fitness. It wasn’t so much about looking my best, it was about functioning my best. It just made sense to help others do the same.”

She found it endearing how he took a shitty situation and not only found the good in it, but fashioned a lifelong calling for himself out of it.

Once she knew his experience with timers, it was only fair for Lucy to share the truth around hers. She didn’t give him every detail, sticking just to the bullet points. She’d zeroed out a month ago. Her soulmate was a man named Tim. He was married, she had no chance, and that was it.

Of all the reactions she expected him to have, she hadn’t guessed Cam would lead with a pitying look, press a gentle kiss to her lips, and then whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked after he’d said it.

“I mean just that. I’m sorry. I know how hard it can be when something you’ve planned for doesn’t pan out.” He asked no more, and she never felt pressured to offer other clarifying details. For all he knew she was out of contact with her soulmate, and Lucy realized a few days later that she preferred he think that. It made things easier for her to let him assume she had no frequent contact with Tim than confess she saw him every day, and that they worked closely together.

Which made it that much more difficult when, a week after Thanksgiving, Tim wondered when she was going let him meet “the guy”.

In her shock, Lucy almost dropped the war bag she’d been trying to place in the trunk of the shop. She stammered out, “The what?”

“You know, that guy you’re seeing. The one with the dumb name. Ham?”

“You mean Cam.”

“Whatever.” He helped her get the gear in the trunk and shut it with a slam. “I should meet him. If you’re not going to let me run his name, at least let me meet the guy and judge him for myself.”

She could not think of a worse idea. “Is there any way we can have this conversation later?” she asked, hoping that if she delayed him enough, he’d forget altogether. Also, that was twice now he’d brought up her personal life during work hours. Other than calling each other Boot or Bradford during shifts, their attempt at having boundaries was basically a joke.

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have the skillset to make judgments on people yet, Boot. How do you think it’ll look if you accidentally date a small-time drug dealer during your rookie year?”

“He’s not a drug dealer.” she retorted.

“Says you, but you can’t know for sure, can you?”

Before Lucy could respond again, an officer she didn’t know walked in and addressed Tim.

“Officer Bradford,” the man said, “Sergeant Grey needs to see you in his office.”

Tim nodded at the other man, then looked at Lucy. “Wait in the shop. I’ll be right back.”

At first she did as he asked, and waited in the passenger’s seat for his return. Five minutes went by, then ten. At the twenty minute mark, Lucy chose to exit the vehicle and go look for her training officer, wondering what could have happened that held him up for so long. He’d never lingered at the station this late before and tended to get moody (or rather, even _more_ moody) whenever they were delayed for any reason.

She scanned the bullpen but didn’t see him. Not there. A glance at Grey’s office -where the officer had directed him to go- was a dead end, too. She finally found him in the briefing room. He sat at one of the tables at the front, his hands interlaced, head forward. From this angle she couldn’t see his face, but noticed the tension in his shoulders and back.

Whatever had happened, it was bad.

She tried not to startle him as she entered the room. “Bradford.”

He didn’t respond.

She took a few steps closer until she could see his face in profile. His brow and mouth both furrowed with a deep frown, and his gaze was focused straight ahead. “Tim?”

He blinked once before looking up at Lucy.

“What happened?” she asked, concern making her voice a whisper.

She saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed hard. “It’s Isabel.” he replied.

Lucy hesitated to speak again, wondering how she should proceed with only “It’s Isabel” to go on. Was she sick? Hurt? In trouble? She wanted to handle it delicately and was unsure how to continue, but the choice was soon rendered irrelevant. From where she stood, she saw movement in the bullpen. Two detectives were walking a suspect through the building. The suspect, a frail blond with wide blue eyes, looked their way. Her stare locked onto Tim immediately.

It was Isabel who walked between the two men. She was in handcuffs.

Sergeant Grey stopped the detectives on their way towards booking. Though they could not hear, both Lucy and Tim watched as he spoke with the men briefly before letting them continue on their way. Then he looked to Tim and gestured his direction.

“Stay here.” Tim ordered as he stood and walked to Sergeant Grey’s office, leaving Lucy to watch him go and… what? Twiddle her thumbs while she waited for him yet again? Not a chance.

Instead, she went to the booking area. The detectives, two guys named Wolfe and Vestri, glanced back as Lucy entered the room and offered her assistance.

“Book this one for us, Boot.” Vestri ordered her. “We’ve gotta see the sergeant.” They left her to do their grunt work without so much as asking for her name. Lucy scoffed. _Detectives…_

Isabel looked worse since the last time she’d seen her, which was saying something, because a month ago she was coming down from an OD. Somehow in the course of a few weeks she’d managed to lose another five pounds. Her lips were a pale, almost lilac hue, and her hair was starting to thin. For her part, Isabel sensed Lucy’s thinly-veiled scrutiny and quickly pulled her sleeves down in an attempt to hide the track marks on her arms.

Lucy knew Isabel needed help and fast, but unfortunately there was only so much she could do. No one could force her to get help. No one could make her stop using. The only thing Lucy could do in that moment was handle her gently, and treat her more humanely than an officer with less scope on the situation might.

“What are the charges?” Lucy asked.

Isabel avoided her eyes as she whispered, “Possession, with intent to sell.”

 _Shit._ “And are you? Selling, I mean?”

“No.” she replied quickly, sounding a little offended that she’d even asked. “No, never. But my boyfriend does.”

Great. Lucy sighed. “Isabel, with a charge like that, the detectives are expecting me to do a full body search.” The other woman stiffened before Lucy continued. “I don’t want to do that. Can you promise me you have no drugs on you?”

There was a pause before Isabel bit out, “Left pocket. Dime bag. It’s all I have on me, I swear.”

Lucy was inclined to believe her. Despite being an addict and therefore harder to trust, she was counting on the fact that Isabel -a former cop herself- didn’t want to go through the humiliation of a cavity search and was being honest. She put on gloves and took the baggie out of Isabel’s pocket, then logged it as evidence before taking her mugshot and finger prints.

As she walked her to the holding cell, Lucy turned to Isabel. “Is there anything you want me to tell Tim?” she asked.

Isabel shook her head at once. “No.”

Lucy turned to go.

“Chen, wait.”

She paused, watching as Isabel appeared to muster her courage.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she asked, fidgeting as the question left her mouth. “You’re her? The one who made his timer go off?”

Lucy was dumbfounded. She had no idea how Isabel had figured that out, but with a single question she had proved herself more astute and present than maybe she or Tim had given her credit for. She was briefly tempted to continue to lie in deference to her TO. This was his wife, after all, and Lucy wasn’t sure it was her place to tell; never mind that Isabel had asked point blank. After brief consideration, Lucy decided it was best to come clean. “Yes.” Lucy said simply.

Isabel looked crestfallen. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Because it didn’t matter? Because it made no difference? Both thoughts were true, but “Because it’s still you he wants.” was the answer Lucy went with. As far as she could tell, it was the truest reason of them all.

She had just shut the door to the holding cell when Tim walked into the booking area. His expression looked stormy, his posture retaining all the tension of before as he leveled Lucy with a single glare.

“What the hell are you doing, Boot?” he asked. Before she could answer, he continued. She got the sense he was ramping up to a tirade. “When I say stay put, you stay put.”

“I booked Isabel in.” she said, ignoring the way his angry stare intensified as she explained. “Vestri and Wolfe think she’s just another druggie, okay? At least with me booking her, she got to keep a shred of dignity.”

The muscle in Tim’s jaw twitched as he weighed her explanation. He nodded, but his anger dissipated only slightly.

“She says it’s not hers.” Lucy revealed in a hushed tone. “She says she’s not selling. Do you believe her?”

“Do you?”

Lucy didn’t answer. Tim avoided the question, but judging by his expression, he wasn’t so sure either. “Get the clerk.” he ordered. “Have him open the cell.”

Lucy rushed to do as she was told. She intercepted the booking clerk as he came back from a coffee break and asked him to open cell three for Officer Bradford. While Tim spoke with Isabel, Lucy kept watch for the detectives. She expected them to return to question Isabel any minute. If they caught Tim with their suspect, it could create trouble.

She kept her stance angled; her left shoulder faced the corridor, her right pointed towards the cell. It made it easier for her to glance between the two that way. Although a thick glass wall separated them, Lucy could still see and hear Isabel’s muted pleading.

“Baby, please.” she said. “I need you. Please. I promise it’ll be different if you do.”

She expected Tim to resist and watched attentively, waiting for him to pull away from Isabel’s clinging hands, to deny whatever Isabel had asked him to do with vehement refusal, but he didn’t. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, and his continued silence in the face of her pleas was deafening. It was enough to make fear threaten to wrap around Lucy’s heart like a vice. When Tim left the cell a short time later, his gaze was vacant, and that fear solidified like ice in her blood. Whatever had happened already, it wasn’t the end of it. She knew by Tim’s look the worst could be yet to come.

But they still had a shift to get through, first.

On any other day, Lucy would’ve encouraged him to take the easy calls, knowing he would probably resist, but still feeling better that she’d tried. Since Bishop and Nolan had that VIP ride-along their choices were much more limited. There was nothing for her to do but hope silently for a light day for his sake.

A little after lunch, Lucy broke the long silence that had filled the shop since they left the station, desiring the rhythm of conversation to break up the monotony of waiting for calls while they patrolled their beat. “You’re not really worried my boyfriend is a serial killer or something, are you?”

“Is that what he is?”

“A serial killer?”

“No.” he replied. “Your boyfriend.”

To be honest, they hadn’t specifically said as much, but she answered, “We’ve been seeing each other for two weeks, we talk every day, and I know he’s not going out with anyone else.”

Tim scoffed. “That doesn’t make him your boyfriend.”

Well, of course _he’d_ think that. This was coming from the same guy who insisted for weeks that timers were silly and soulmates were fake. Him implying exclusivity did not make a couple was about as surprising as saying water was wet. “Would it kill you to be happy for me?” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that, Boot?”

She looked over at Tim. “Nothing, sir. Forget I brought it up.”

The silence persisted again, until Tim broke it the second time. “Look. I’m not going to tell you what to do. Just promise me you’ll be careful who you trust.” From the way he said it -sounding defeated, spent, and preceding it with a sigh that sounded more like a tired breath than anything else- it was evident he warned her out of his own experience.

~

Lucy considered herself a capable, intelligent woman, but she didn’t think it would’ve taken a genius to figure out what Isabel was asking Tim to do in the holding cell that morning. She’d been caught with four grams, individually wrapped. “Intent to sell”, it was called. She’d admitted her boyfriend was a dealer.

If being caught with that kind of weight was exhibit A, and her boyfriend dealing was B, C could only be one thing.

So Lucy canceled her plans with Cam, apologized profusely, but offered no explanation outside of vaguely attributing it to work. “Helping my TO with something” were her exact words. He understood, but she had expected nothing less from him; when _wasn’t_ he understanding? Sometimes her job would ask more of her, he’d said, and he wanted to support her however she needed. At any other time, she might have swooned over his thoughtfulness, but she was too keyed up to focus on much else. She ended the call with a promise to see him the next day before hanging up.

It was near eleven p.m. when she pulled up to Isabel’s apartment building. She parallel parked on the street and turned off her car, afraid leaving it on idle would attract someone’s attention by mistake. In her rearview mirror, she saw Tim’s truck and her heart sank. The driver’s seat was empty.

She was too late.

Her mind raced as she rethought her plan. She’d hoped to get here before he even set foot in the building. Okay. So she didn’t manage to stop him before he went in. She could still talk to him when he came out. She still had one chance.

It wasn’t long before she spotted a figure in her rearview mirror, clad in black and walking quickly and with purpose. Lucy stepped out of her car just as Tim reached the driver’s side door of his own.

A moment passed where he watched her get out of the car. There was a split-second where he appeared confused, but it was quickly overshadowed by fury. He slammed his door shut before marching towards her with one arm behind his back. His efforts at concealment confirmed her worst fear.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.

She refused to be bowed by his anger. “I should ask you the same question.”

He took a step back. “You need to leave.”

“No.” She wanted to appear resolute, but Lucy’s lip quivered over that single syllable.

“You’re way out of your depth on this.”

Yes, she was, but so was he. Blinded by his love for and loyalty to Isabel, Tim was sinking and couldn’t even see it. Lucy had the sole advantage of no such loyalty to his wife, no such love; she had no worries for anyone involved except for Tim himself, her concern beginning and ending with him alone.“Look. I didn’t come here to lecture you. I came here to remind you that this isn’t you. You project the rogue cop thing, but you always make the right call.”

“If you came all this way to analyze me-“

“- Tim, please. Stop.” she interrupted him, fighting feeling exasperated on top of everything else. “If you would stop trying to belittle me for one second, you’d see I want to help you.” He didn’t look convinced, so she persisted before he could interrupt again. “Do you really think that fixing this for Isabel is going to change her? It won’t. All it will do is change you.” His teeth clenched at her conclusion, but still he said nothing.

“Maybe that doesn’t matter to you,” Lucy continued, “but it matters to me. Have you thought about that Tim?” She held his gaze; hard to do, that, when he was so determined to avoid her eyes, but she managed nonetheless. “Not just what this is going to do to you, but what it’ll do to me to have to choose between protecting you and turning you in?”

His response was quick and needlessly harsh. “I would _never_ ask you to protect me.”

“I know.” She understood Tim well enough by now to know that it wasn’t some perceived inability on her part that made him say that; rather, it was pride. Pride masquerading as self-reliance. When was the last time he’d asked anyone for help? How often had he felt like he had only himself to depend on? It predated her presence in his life, for sure, and possibly extended back a long way into his past, an entrenched belief born out of necessity and survival. It made her heart ache to wonder how long he’d gone believing he must be strong enough to bear every weight alone. “But you should know I would never make you ask.”

The last words were spoken in a hushed tone, less because she was trying to be quiet than she was affected by her own honesty. It was a confession on her part and the words somehow felt heavy as they left her lips. Heavy, loaded, and true, two sentences that managed to speak volumes of how much she cared about him in spite of everything; what she would risk to keep him safe, what she would be willing to lose for his sake.

 _You’re going to be important to me._ So she had told him at the very beginning, speaking of a time in the future. The day (or rather, the night) had come sooner than she thought it would. Tim was important to her. She cared too much to let him make this mistake, and she was banking on the belief that he felt the same. Just like she would protect him without asking, she was trusting in the as-yet unproven fact he’d never put her in that position.

At last, her words seemed to land with him. When he looked at her next, it was with a mix of awe and horror.She could not comprehend either reaction, and now was not the moment nor the place to ask. For the first time since she’d approached him he seemed uneasy, less determined than before. It appeared to her to be a glimmer of hope that he would listen.

In the course of their argument he’d stopped hiding his hand behind his back. Lucy saw now he wore a blue nitrile glove and held a black garbage bag, the neck of which he clenched tightly in his fist. Who knew what was in it for certain, but she could make an educated guess. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “You need to go.”

Lucy left without another word. She had spoken her piece; she had done all she could.

Whatever happened next, it was up to Tim.

~

It was near midnight by the time Lucy returned home. Isabel’s apartment was a twenty minute drive from hers, but she dawdled on the dimly lit Los Angeles streets, extending her drive by more than thirty minutes in an attempt to collect herself. Her efforts were in vain, and she entered her home with her nerves no more settled than they were when she left Tim almost an hour ago. She worried what he might have done when she left. Did he put the contents of the bag back? Return them to their place, just as he’d found them? She knew he was smart enough not to leave a trace, but what if her begging hadn’t been enough?

And oh _shit_ , what if it had? What, she wondered as she crawled into bed, would it mean then? What if her going to plead with him and using her own feelings as a bargaining chip succeeded?

She didn’t sleep except in snippets. It felt like forever before the sun began to peek through her blinds. She wasn’t expected at the precinct for another two hours, but got up anyway, hurried through her morning routine, and left. Lucy didn’t know where she was driving until she was already there, turning onto a tree-lined road that wound upwards towards homes she could only dream of affording.

Nolan lived in the guest house of a friend’s mansion. She and Jackson had been there dozens of times before. She hadn’t realized how much she associated the home with a safe place until she pulled into the drive and parked.

It was too early still. She knew Nolan was probably sleeping. After sitting in the drive for ten minutes, staring at the door, she prepared to back out.

Then he stepped out onto the porch and waved her up.

Nolan had just recently woken up. That much was evident from the messy hair, the sleep lines still on his face. As she walked up the steps, Lucy noticed he held two cups of coffee; one for him, one for her.

“To what do I owe the honor of your presence?” he teased as he pressed one mug into her hand.

“Long night. Couldn’t sleep.”

It wasn’t a complete explanation, but Nolan never needed much to go on before showing himself hospitable. He gladly motioned for her to join him inside. She followed him into the house, through the kitchen to the little dinette beside the large picture window. The view overlooked the pool and the rest of the expertly landscaped property. On a day off, she would’ve loved to get lost in all the green, but looking from a distance would have to do for now.

“How did you know I was in the drive?” she asked once they were seated.

“You tripped the security sensors when you pulled in.” he said. “With a driveway that long, people don’t usually end up by the house unless they mean to. I got an alert on my phone when you drove up.”

“Oh.” Now she felt bad. The alert had probably woken him up.

“It’s fine, Lucy. I promise.” he was quick to assure her. “My old bones could use an early start now and then.” He chuckled to himself, then looked at her with kindness in his eyes. “Do you want to talk about whatever brought you here this early?”

What was there to say? Until she knew for sure that Tim had put the drugs back, anything she told anyone would endanger their deniability. She had resigned herself to being in this hole with Tim alone if necessary, but couldn’t do that to any of her friends; least of all Nolan, who had been nothing but the textbook definition of a support system to her since her timer went off. “I just needed to be with a friend, I think.” was her answer, and while it was not the whole truth, it was still undeniably true.

He knew her well and cast an uncertain look her way, but did not ask more of her. “Well, you always have that here.” he said and lifted his cup to his lips. Then while grinning he added, “But maybe call first next time?”

She laughed and promised she would.

~

A morning with Nolan managed to calm her when nothing else had, but Lucy knew better than to tempt fate. She wisely avoided Tim until the last possible second. It was only after she’d finished loading up their gear that they acknowledged each other, and then just barely. They did not greet one another, but there were plenty of wary looks to spare between them until they both took their seats inside the shop.

Safe within the confines of the vehicle, Lucy spoke first. “Sir, last night-” she began.

Tim shushed her immediately. “Didn’t happen.” He cast a sideways glance at her, a wordless signal as he cocked one eyebrow. “Is that clear?”

She held back a sigh of relief. He hadn’t gone through with it. He’d put the drugs back. Lucy understood and nodded. 

Before another word could be spoken, Sergeant Grey approached their still-parked shop and tapped on the window. It startled them both.

“I got some bad news.” Sergeant Grey began after Tim had rolled the window down. “Detectives executed a search warrant on your wife’s apartment this morning. Found a kilo in the heating unit.”

She was quick to look away from Sergeant Grey, afraid her expression would be interpreted as guilt. Her fear was unfounded as neither Tim nor their superior seemed to pay her any mind. Tim looked away, mute as the sergeant informed him of the upped charges Isabel now faced. His eyes appeared to glaze over and he kept his focus trained on the steering wheel as Sergeant Grey uttered a heartfelt apology, paused for only a moment, then let them be.

When some time had passed, Lucy tried to speak again.

“It was the right thing to do.” she whispered.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Tim-”

“It was the right thing for you, Lucy.” he snapped. “Not for Isabel.”

She was taken aback and became defensive if an instant. “I didn’t ask you to do it for me.”

His retort came out as a rasp, like tears were pulling his voice taut in his throat. “How else was I supposed to take you saying you’d protect me, huh? You and I both know there was only one way that would happen.” He raised a hand as if he were going to strike the steering wheel, but thought better of it, bringing it down onto the curve with a muted clap.

“I’m sorry.” Lucy whispered. She wasn’t sorry for encouraging him to put the brick back; she knew that was the right move without a doubt. Seeing how much pain it caused him to want to help Isabel only to be held back and knowing it was her own words and actions that stopped him, she could only be apologetic. She _was_ sorry, if not for the actual deed itself, then for how he felt now because of it.

He took another minute to compose himself. When Tim looked up again, he was clear-eyed and stoic. “Don’t make me choose between you and her again.”

Just yesterday she had judged Isabel for the position she’d put him in, thinking that she’d preyed on his love and plied him with false promises. Lucy saw now that she was no better in that regard; there was no denying that she herself had done the same to him. No, she hadn’t sworn that things would change, and their end goals couldn’t have been more different… but she was forced to recognize how betting on his feelings for her (whatever they were) and using them to get her way had made him feel ill-used. No matter her motive or that it was the right call morally and legally, she had manipulated Tim into doing what she asked.

Both women had begged. Tim had chosen, and for better or worse, all three would live with the consequences. _What’s done is done._ Lucy thought, but it was poor consolation. She had saved Tim from making a terrible mistake, but at a great personal cost to him. It was not a victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Thank you all for being so patient while I got the next set of updates completed. I won't bore you with a long author's note since it's been two weeks between chapters. This one covers the events of season 1 episode 7, "The Ride Along". Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	11. Bad Days Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "By the time the fever broke  
> I'd had enough of trouble  
> That's when trouble spoke  
> Sometimes, it's a losing battle"  
> \- "Losing Battles", Josh Ritter

It was like starting from square one. Not with her training. That proceeded as expected. Some days she won, some days she lost (although she preferred to view it as “learning” more than losing). No, she was back at the beginning with Tim himself. After the stash was found at Isabel’s apartment, her relationship with him deteriorated, becoming as bad or worse than it was when she started her rookie year. Worse, not because he was meaner than he’d once been, but because she’d seen what it could be when they got along. Worse, because now she knew what she stood to lose.

He wasn’t overtly cruel, for which Lucy was thankful, but neither was he kind. Any ground she’d gained with him had been ceded; any warmth he’d shown towards her vanished overnight. He avoided speaking to her as much as possible, and avoided looking at her even more. He treated her with apathy during shifts. If ever she brought up the night outside Isabel’s apartment (and she was only brave enough to try twice), he responded with something sharp and biting, but that was the extent of anger. She’d asked Angela and Talia to check on him after the charges against Isabel were increased. As far as she could tell, they had, but neither would offer her insight into his mindset. Whether that was out of a lack of knowledge or from a sense of loyalty to him, she couldn’t be sure.

What she knew for certain was he had committed to freezing her out completely. It didn’t surprise her, and she couldn’t say she blamed him. She reserved the blame for herself.

In the week that followed, Lucy took comfort where she could. Typically that comfort came in the form of hanging out with her friends. Jackson and Nolan could sense something had shifted, but neither asked what. By now, they were as accustomed to the roller coaster named Tim Bradford as she was. Her time spent with them alternated with evenings spent with her boyfriend. _Official_ boyfriend. She and Cam had had that particular conversation just a day or two after Tim had made his little comment about what counted and what didn’t, although Lucy refused to give him undue credit even in the privacy of her own mind. Cam did the cheesy, proud boyfriend thing, and posted a picture of Lucy to his Instagram account. She left kissy face emojis under the picture, but posted nothing of her own.

“Trust me,” she said as she explained her reasons to him, “you don’t want my parents getting involved this early.” She could only handle so much relational drama at once. Maybe when (or if) things improved with Tim, she’d reconsider.

She kept Cam a secret from her blood family, but extended no such measures to her friends. He already knew Jackson but had yet to meet Nolan, and she planned to remedy that the second week of December during a small, surprise holiday party at Nolan’s place.

It was Nolan’s first Christmas in LA. While he’d never said so in plain English, both Lucy and Jackson got the sense that he was feeling displaced. Winters in Los Angeles were nothing like what he was accustomed to in Pennsylvania, so the pair made secret plans to bring a little of home to him. They texted his son Henry for ideas, and he was happy to point them in the right direction, giving them info they would’ve otherwise never guessed. A faux tree was purchased; according to Henry, his dad would forget to water a real one, not to mention the mess sap and fallen pine needles would create might cause his friend/landlord Ben to have a coronary. Secondhand strings of multi-colored Christmas lights were procured from Jackson’s parents, and an assortment of red, green, and gold ornaments from a nearby craft shop. He also found and purchased candles made in Pennsylvania. Supposedly the scent was inspired by the state, but to Lucy it just smelled like pine and apples. Not an unpleasant smell by any stretch, but probably not accurate.

Since Jackson headed up the decorations, Lucy tasked herself with handling the food. It wasn’t something she wasted time grousing about, knowing she was the more capable chef out of the two of them (if only barely). She had already ordered two giant bags of Middleswarth BBQ chips and a box of Tastykakes brand cupcakes, snacks native to Nolan’s home state.

“And they better be good,” she joked to Jackson over the phone while they continued to plan, “because after shipping, they’ll cost more than the rest of the food.”

She looked up meals specific to the state and got a lot of hits for dishes ranging from delicious to disgusting. Lebanon bologna sounded tasty, almost like a heavily seasoned prosciutto. Something called “scrapple”, a meat comprised of pork scraps and corn meal, would not be served and in her opinion could be taken as proof that humanity deserved bad things. She’d tried her hand at making apple butter, but a test batch ended up too runny and almost entirely flavorless, closer to baby food than something to spread on warm slices of bread. When none of her other attempts panned out, she bought the ingredients for Philly cheesesteaks the night before. Sure, it was a little cliche, but it was also hard to screw up.

They planned to spring it all -the decorations, the food, the merriment- on a Friday night after work. Jackson and Lucy arrived at eight. Cam would join them at eight-thirty.

“Is that all the food?” Jackson asked after he rang the doorbell to the guest house. They stood beside each other on the stoop, and he eyed her three grocery bags with envy. He carried the tree under one arm, and a large box of containing the lights and ornaments under the other, significantly more heavy-laden with goodies than she was.

“This is plenty for four people,” she replied. He made a sound like he didn’t agree, but couldn’t address it before Nolan opened the door.

“Merry Christmas!” they shouted in unison.

He reacted exactly like they were hoping; surprised, of course, but also pleased and a little touched.

“This is really too much you guys,” he gushed as they walked inside with their gifts. Jackson put the tree box and ornaments in the living room while Lucy started unpacking the food in the kitchen. “Oh my gosh, are those Tastykakes?” He exclaimed, taking the offered box from Lucy. “I used to buy these for Henry’s lunches. Where did you find these?”

“Oh you know, you can find anything on the internet,” she replied as he hugged her.

While Nolan and Jackson got to work sorting through the decorations, Lucy started on the sandwiches. Most of the ingredients for the cheesesteaks were already prepared, but she needed a few minutes to slice and grill the onions. After that, it was just a matter of assembling the pieces on the subs and letting them sit them under the broiler for a few minutes to melt the cheese.

As she put together the second of four subs, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” she called, peeking out of the kitchen to glance at her friends. The tree was upright in the corner, although it leaned a little to the left. Nolan was busy attempting to untangle a string of lightbulbs while Jackson threaded hooks onto ornaments.

“Um, real quick…” she began, trying to sound nonchalant as she walked towards the guys. “Cam is here, and he doesn’t know my soulmate is my TO, so uh… yeah, keep that under your hats. Okay? Okay!” She didn’t give them time to argue, but knew by the way their jaws dropped in synch that she would have to explain herself later.

And explain she would, but not until after the tree had been decorated, the sandwiches had been eaten, and the Christmas music had stopped. The cheesesteaks were a hit, and although Lucy didn’t think either the chips or cupcakes were anything special, the cost was worth it to see Nolan’s grin as he bit into one of the chocolate cakes. She ate two (because even “just okay” cake was still cake) while Jackson and Cam both declined. Once they’d finished eating, Nolan turned on the tree lights for the first time. Cam excused himself shortly afterwards, citing the hike he was leading early the next morning as his reason for leaving. Lucy saw him out.

“Well? What did you think of Nolan?” she asked as she walked him to his car.

“He’s nice! _Definitely_ not from around here.” That observation made them both laugh. “You said he’s a rookie?”

She nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. He’s…” as often as possible, she refrained from calling him _old_ , “… not as young as most rookies are.”

Cam chuckled. “I see what you did there. Very diplomatic.” He put his arm around her waist and drew her close. “Do you think I impressed your friends?”

“Jackson was your friend first, you know. But yes, I think you impressed Nolan.” She didn’t mention that he was probably the easiest to impress out of her friends and family, figuring even the easy wins should count for something.

“Good.” He kissed her once on the lips, then on her forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

When she returned to the house, Nolan and Jackson were waiting in the entryway like a pair of disappointed parents, down to the crossed arms and deep frowns.

She looked between the both of them, swallowed hard once, and said tentatively, “I know what you’re going to say, but just let me explain.” She figured one or both of them to interrupt her and even paused to let them try, but neither did. “Oh. Okay. I didn’t expect you guys to actually let me explain.”

“It’s not so much ‘letting’ you as ‘making you’, Luce,” Nolan noted.

“And it better be good, because I am not finding a new gym if this all goes south,” Jackson said.

She bristled, but couldn’t pretend she hadn’t earned their judgment to some degree. “Cam knows my timer hit zero, but he thinks it’s just some married guy named Tim. He doesn’t know Tim is my training officer. It’s as simple as that.”

Her friends didn’t think so.

“Ok, so, you lied,” Jackson stated.

“No, I didn’t lie. I just sort of,” she gestured vaguely towards herself, “held that part back.”

Jackson wasn’t deterred. “You know, in court they call that a lie of omission.”

“I used to tell Henry that a half truth is a whole lie,” Nolan added.

“Yeah, well. I’m not in court, and I’m not Henry.” She tried not to shrink back even as she felt a twinge of shame at their comments. “I didn’t plan on 'omitting’ anything. I told him my soulmate’s name is Tim, and he’s married, and then I didn’t say anything else. He was the one that assumed I don’t see him.”

“Assumed?”

She tried to remember specifics. “… I think I said ‘that was it’.” Nothing else in the conversation was pertinent enough to the topic to be worth sharing, but she added, “It’s possible he took it differently than I maybe expected him to.”

Nolan said nothing, but Jackson audibly groaned.

Her next words came out in a stammer. “Y-you can’t tell him. Okay? This can’t be the thing that screws it all up.” She was going to come clean, sooner or later. Not when it was still so new, not when things were going so well between them. She desperately needed just one aspect of her personal life to continue smoothly; so far, that was only Cam. What could be the harm in delaying just a little while longer? She could think of none, so long as her friends kept their mouths shut.

It visibly bothered them to agree, but both men did eventually after she swore she would come clean with him herself. She would, she promised. Of course she would. Just not right now.

~

While she could put off telling Cam the entire truth about Tim, Lucy didn’t think she could stand another day where her issues with Tim remained unresolved. She walked into the station determined to face the problem, deciding she would not let up until it was fixed. She’d psyched herself up for a conversation that she envisioned would be equal parts heartfelt and hostile, but her determination wavered when, after the morning briefing, Isabel was dropped off. Officers from the county jail delivered her directly into Sergeant Grey’s care.

Lucy only saw her for a second from a distance before Tim marched over to the sergeant. She couldn’t hear what he said, but could tell from his body language (balled fists, stiffened back) that he was upset. Few people were reckless enough to broadcast their anger so visibly to a superior officer. It spoke volumes of Tim’s lack of regard for his own well-being where Isabel was concerned, and also of Sergeant Grey’s capacity for patience that he didn’t reprimand him outright.

She didn’t stick around to see how the conversation ended, just kept her head down and went to get the gear loaded. She waited until they were on the streets to ask why Isabel had been brought back.

“That’s above your pay-grade, Boot,” Tim replied, offering no further explanation.

She paused only a moment before asking another question. “Are you going to be mad at me forever?”

His reply ignored her question. “They weren’t Isabel’s drugs.”

“They were in her heater.”

“They weren’t her drugs,” he repeated. “She’s in this situation because she let herself get taken advantage of.”

“And you believe her.” That wasn’t a question, but an observation. He didn’t answer, which was fine. Lucy didn’t need confirmation. “I know it hurt you to let it happen. I’m so sorry for that, and for making you feel like I was manipulating you. I promise it will never happen again.”

Tim’s reply was short. “Sure, Boot.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I think you believe you,” he retorted, “but I don’t think that’s a promise you’re prepared to keep.”

She was tempted to object. Choice comments laced with sarcasm seemed to burn the tip of her tongue, daring her to speak, but she held back. Her plans for a productive conversation had been altered the second Isabel arrived, but then they managed to have the longest talk they’d had in a week. Progress was progress, wasn’t it? If she continued to protest, it could (and probably would) end in an argument. She wanted resolution, but she wasn’t prepared to fight him to get it.

It soon didn’t matter. The laptop to her left beeped, notifying them both of a new alert in their box. Lucy read it aloud.

“Officer-involved shooting,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat as she saw the name. “It’s Nolan.” She fell into a stunned silence, but her shock was soon pierced by the sound of Tim’s city-issued phone. Sergeant Grey was calling.

“Bradford.” He listened to their orders, nodding his head as the sergeant spoke. “Understood. We’re on our way.”

“What’s going on?” she asked as he changed lanes suddenly.

“Sergeant needs us back. Character witnesses for Nolan.” He pulled a u-turn at the next intersection, putting them on the road back to the station.

“You okay, Boot?” he asked.

She nodded without thinking. “Yeah.”

“Are you really?”

“…No.” Lucy wasn’t naive. She understood this sort of thing happened, but it was _Nolan._ She knew him well enough to imagine that this was a worst-case scenario for him. “I don’t know if he’s ever met a conflict he couldn’t ‘nice’ his way out of. I’m worried what this will do to him.”

They pulled into the station garage a few minutes later. Tim put the shop in park and turned in his seat to face her.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucy,” he encouraged. For the first time in days, he didn’t sound upset with her; he called her by name. It felt like a sort of cease-fire, a tenuous peace agreement formed more by the circumstances than by forgiveness or goodwill from either party. It was better than nothing, though, and Lucy hoped it lasted.

They entered the precinct together but were promptly separated after checking in. All the officers that worked with Nolan closely were to be kept apart until after their interviews so that no one could coach another officer on their answers. The questions were pretty standard, easy to answer, but Lucy still felt nervous. More than that, she was worried about her friend.

After her interview, she found Jackson in the break room. In his hands he held a cup of cold coffee, which he stared at with a forlorn expression.

“Want me to warm that up for you?” she asked.

Jackson looked up and gave her a thin smile. “Nah. I’m good.” Then he asked, “How did it go?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Yours?”

He shrugged too. “Okay, I guess.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee, added a little sugar, and took a seat across from him. “Have you seen Nolan?”

He shook his head. “No. They won’t let any of us talk to him until after he’s been through interrogation. Could compromise the investigation.”

“Well, how long will the investigation take?”

“Could take days,” Angela said from the doorway. Lucy turned to face her as she walked over to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup. “When an officer-involved shooting happens, IA goes over every step with a fine-toothed comb, and that’s for a force vet. For a probationary officer, that scrutiny is magnified even more.” She helped herself to the empty seat to Jackson’s right.

“I can’t imagine what Nolan is going through,” Jackson whispered. “Can you?”

Angela’s eyes flashed, hardening as she remembered. “Second year as a TO. Prisoner transport went sideways. My Boot didn’t search the suspect properly and lost her gun. Guy would’ve killed us both if I hadn’t pulled the trigger.”

“What happened to the Boot?” Lucy was glad Jackson asked. She was wondering, too.

“Don’t know. She wasn’t a cop after that.”

“How did you get through it?”

She pursed her lips and with one finger tapped a brief rhythm against her paper coffee cup as she thought about her reply. “You don’t get through that kind of thing, Chen,” Angela answered. “You just make peace with it.”

No more was said between the three of them after that. Jackson rose after a few minutes and discarded his coffee before leaving the room. Soon, Lucy went to do the same.

“Chen.”

She turned to look at Angela. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Bradford tell you about Isabel?” When she said nothing, Angela took it as no. “She made a deal to become a confidential informant.”

This was news to her. Lucy was positive her surprise showed. “What does that mean for Isabel?”

“She’ll avoid jail time.” Angela paused there to finish off her coffee. “She’s got a lot of contacts, but it’s dangerous. Could even turn deadly.” She looked Lucy over with a knowing gaze. “I’m sure you can understand why a certain tall, blond, and broody training officer might be extra keyed up about it over the next few days, right?”

At that, Lucy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I can see why that would be true.”

Satisfied with her agreement, Angela left Lucy alone in the break room. She took the time by herself to ponder what might happen now. They’d learned about CI’s in the academy, but she couldn’t recall an example like this. Nothing in her training so far had prepared her for a case quite like Isabel, period. A former cop who fell into addiction choosing to become an informant? To do something so risky showed how desperate Isabel was. As she’d witnessed firsthand before, when Isabel got desperate, so did Tim. The thought filled her with dread.

~

If progress was being made on Nolan’s case, Lucy didn’t know for sure. Neither could she tell what sort of moves were being made with Isabel as a CI. Being at the bottom of the pecking order, most information she got concerning either person was picked up in rumblings; in rumors spoken between superiors within her earshot, murmurs between officers working the different cases.

Her best source of information turned out to be Officer Bishop. Talia, now aiding the detectives in charge of Isabel’s case, approached Tim in plainclothes the next day. Lucy was seated at a table a few feet away, having lunch with Jackson. After briefly speaking with Talia, Angela excused herself and called to Jackson to let him know they were getting back to their beat. That left Lucy at the table alone, watching and straining to hear what the officers were discussing while feigning focus on her food.

She caught nothing, not even pieces, until the end after Tim had risen to his feet abruptly.

“They want her to wear a wire,” Talia said. It was the first bit she’d been able to discern with confidence throughout their conversation. “It’s happening tonight.”

Before another word was said, Tim left the food truck circle in a hurry. When he did not return after a few minutes, Lucy stood. She disposed of her trash, then walked over to where Tim had left his.

Talia was still seated at the table and looked up when Lucy approached.

“I’m guessing you heard that?” she asked.

“Heard what?” Her play at innocence earned her a smirk.

“Don’t play dumb, Boot,” she replied, but it didn’t sound mean.

“I know this is all way above me,” Lucy began with some hesitation, “and I’m probably out of line by even offering, but if there’s anything I can do to help-”

Talia stopped her before she could say more. “There’s nothing you can do to help with Isabel, Boot.” After a second, she amended, adding, “The best thing you can do is be supportive, should Bradford need it. Not that he’d admit to needing it.” They both snickered briefly at that. “Have you talked to Nolan lately?”

Lucy shook her head slowly. “I saw him come in and go to the Captain’s office. Nothing after that.”

Concern covered Talia’s face. She didn’t pretend to hide it. “Do me a favor and go check on him, okay? Make sure he’s taken care of, supported, whatever. You’d know better than me what might help him. Between me and Lopez, we’ll watch out for Tim, okay? I promise.”

Lucy agreed at once.

~

It took some searching, but she finally found Nolan in a hallway inside the precinct. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Looked like it, Lucy knew, because he probably hadn’t. His haggard appearance was emphasized by his wardrobe. An officer-involved shooting meant he was on leave until the investigation was complete, so he was in civilian clothing. The clothes were clean but rumpled, and his hair looked as though he’d raked his fingers through it multiples times in the last few minutes. Altogether, the image he projected was a little disheveled.

“How long have you been standing here?” she asked when she walked up to him.

He blinked. “Um. Not sure. Time’s still…” he trailed off.

“What’s going on?”

He wanted to say. She could tell by the way he bit down on his lips that he wanted so badly to tell her everything. “I can’t. They could call you to testify.”

“So?” She forced her voice to sound lighter than she felt. “I’ll testify that you’re one of the best people I know.”

He didn’t need much more prompting than that, but what he shared was still vague. “I can’t stop thinking about it, Lucy. I was chasing him, and then he turned, and then he was dead.” His voice wavered over the word _dead_. “What if I can’t get past this?” he wondered. “How will I ever do the job again?”

It hurt to see him so tormented. She wanted to fix it, but there was almost nothing she could do. Being a talker, she knew he needed to discuss it. Hell, it was possible he wouldn’t be able to really begin processing his grief and and guilt until he could talk about it more freely, but he was right that anything he told her could negatively impact the investigation.

It was luck that inspiration struck her with such a quickness, she could’ve sworn it was divine. She put one hand on his arm, making him look at her. “I have an idea. Give me thirty minutes, okay?” When he nodded, she added, “I’ll meet you in the break room.”

It took a little longer than she planned, but within the hour Lucy had filed all her paperwork, clocked out, and changed out of her uniform. She hadn’t heard from or seen Tim at all in that time period, but trusted Talia when she said she and Angela would keep an eye on him. Between Lopez and Bishop he was in good hands. Not that he _needed_ to be handled. Not that he wasn’t capable on his own, but there was a constant hum of worry over him that had played on a looped in the back of her mind since the day Isabel was arrested.

She did her best to push it out of her mind, shutting it away like how she slammed the door to her locker before going to the break room to retrieve Nolan.

Lucy led him to the parking lot. Although his truck worked better, she offered to drive. She just wished her radio weren’t broken. The silence in her car was unbearable as she drove them through the city. Eventually, she steered the Datsun down a neighborhood road. Nolan recognized it at once; his posture went rigid beside her as he inhaled deeply.

“What are we doing here?” he asked after she’d rolled to a stop in front of the house. She knew it probably looked different now, removed from the adrenaline of the chase and the shooting. From the street they could see into the large picture window. The family who lived there was visible, all smiles as they set the table for dinner. It was as perfect and picturesque as it would have been if the events of just two days before had not transpired.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Lucy whispered. “I can’t imagine how I’d feel if it were me. But look at them, John. They’re alive because of _you_. You put your own life at risk to protect them.” She put her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. “If you’re ever in that position again, I know you’ll do the same thing.”

Lucy’s breath caught in her chest as she recognized that, as true as her statement had been for Nolan, it connected with her circumstance seamlessly. Although she’d known encouraging Tim to put the drugs back was the right call, she still wrestled against doubt and against guilt with no sign of absolution from him. Now her actions had indirectly forced Isabel to make a dangerous choice. She had been tempted to shoulder more than her fair share of blame for that, too, but no. She couldn’t feel guilty. She wouldn’t. She had stopped Tim from making a mistake that would fundamentally alter him as a person. He’d gone to the edge of what made him Him, and she alone had managed to pull him back from the cliff.

Tim had been right to say she couldn’t make the kind of promise she tried to yesterday morning. If she was ever in that position again, she’d do the same thing. A hundred times over, she’d do the same thing.

~

Visiting the house wasn’t a fix. She hadn’t expected it to be, but for the first time in days, she got the sense Nolan was able to relax. He even cracked a smile or two. Lucy knew he’d carry the weight from the shooting forever, but she didn’t think that was wrong or unhealthy. To regard it lightly, whether now or someday in the future, would be inauthentic to Nolan and his capacity for empathy.

They drove around until well after the sun had set. At some point, Nolan suggested dinner, so they grabbed tacos while out and took them back to his house. They ate on the floor in the living room while watching Christmas movies by the light of the tree.

“So,” he asked around a mouthful, “are you still mad at Tim?”

She looked down at her plate, hiding from his gaze. Lucy knew better than to lie to Nolan. He was too perceptive for that, so instead she tried to evade. “What makes you think I’m mad at him?”

It didn’t work. “Seriously?” he said. “You and Jackson both wear your feelings on your face. You might as well have written it on your forehead.”

There wasn’t much she could safely tell. She certainly couldn’t disclose that Tim had been at the brink of breaking the law for his wife, and she wasn’t sure she could share that Isabel was working as a CI. Although Angela had volunteered the information, Lucy got the feeling that wasn’t meant to be passed around as common knowledge.

“I’m not mad at him, but you’re right that we aren’t getting along too well right now. I think he blames me for Isabel.” she answered simply.

Nolan nodded, signaling he understood. “I remember hearing she got arrested, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see how he could blame you for that.”

She couldn’t clarify, so she shrugged. “He just does.”

He studied her, looking at her not with sadness but sympathy. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You’re asking me?” Lucy pushed him gently with her shoulder and smiled. “Tacos and a Christmas movie? You’re already doing it.”

They finished dinner midway through _Miracle on 34th Street._ She’d had a beer with her meal and once the first was gone, Nolan offered another. She finished it quickly and sheepishly asked for a third. By ten o’clock, she was on her fourth and felt warm. Good. Not drunk, but buzzed enough that she knew not to drive.

“Stay. Sleep on the couch,” Nolan insisted as he gathered up the empty bottles to carry to the kitchen.

“I could just call an Uber…” she started to say before sinking back into the plush cushions with a contented sigh. Oh, but it was tempting to stay since he’d offered. The sofa was more comfortable than her lumpy, creaky old mattress by miles.

Her eyes were already closed when she heard Nolan chuckle from above her. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

There was a rustling sound as a soft, thick cover was draped over her. Lucy fell asleep pretty quickly after that and for a while snoozed soundly and dreamlessly on the couch. She awoke a few hours later to total darkness in the living room and the buzz of her cell phone. She groped for it in the dark, finally locating it near her feet. The light from the screen was blinding as she fumbled to turn down the brightness before checking the notifications through a sleepy, slightly hungover squint. One missed phone call and one text, both from Angela. The message made Lucy bolt upright, sobering her in a split-second.

 _ **Meet me at Cedars**. _the text read. _**Isabel’s been shot.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/left kudos so far. It means so much!  
> This chapter covers the events of The Rookie 1x8, "Time of Death". I'll admit that there's not as much Tim in this chapter as others (what can I say except ANGST) but the next update will contain lots of him and Lucy, trust me!  
> I talk a bit of shit about Pennsylvania food in this chapter. Being Pennsylvania Dutch, I reserve that right. :P
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please review if you feel so inclined!


	12. The Longest Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And all I can taste is this moment  
> And all I can breathe is your life  
> And sooner or later, it's over  
> I just don't wanna miss you tonight"  
> \- "Iris", Kina Grannis

The panic she felt was instant, followed and heightened by a cold chill that ran down her spine as Lucy threw back the blanket and sprang to her feet. No hint of grogginess lingered. Her mind was as clear as it would have been with a full night’s sleep, but her heartbeat thudded in her ears, her own voice sounding distant as she ran to Nolan’s bedroom calling his name. Adrenaline made her hands tremble as she shook him to wake him up.

“Nolan. Nolan. Wake up.” she chanted until he opened his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he rubbed at his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“It’s Tim’s wife,” she replied in a rush. “She’s been shot. They’re taking her to the hospital now.”

His reaction was similar to hers, the shock of the news jolting him out of any remaining sleepiness. He sat up and pushed back the covers while he said to Lucy, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

She asked to borrow a clean shirt and to use the bathroom connected to his room before she left. He nodded and got to his feet, then rummaged through one drawer. After a second of searching, he handed her a clean plain gray t-shirt and black hoodie with a zipper up the front to wear over it, then he went to the kitchen to make her a cup of coffee to drink on the drive over.

Lucy tried to work quickly, anxious to get to the hospital as soon as possible. She splashed some cold water on her face and availed herself to the bottle of blue Listerine on the counter before yanking her shirt off hurriedly. She had just pulled the clean t-shirt over her head when she heard strange sounds she couldn’t quite place coming from the living room. The brief noise was followed by the unmistakable sound of a single gunshot.

She tore out of the bathroom. The bedroom door was partially closed, obscuring a sizable portion of her view into the living room. She spotted Nolan’s off-duty weapon on the nightstand near his pillow, grabbed it, then headed toward the sound of the fight. Lucy opened the door just in time to see Nolan kick a man through the glass wall just a few feet away from where she had been sleeping only minutes before.

While Nolan called for help, Lucy kept her gun trained on the trespasser. It was pure precaution. The man was unconscious, but protocol and common sense told them he would need to be handcuffed. Only after the man was properly restrained did she have the chance to ask Nolan if he was okay. He said he was, but he sure as hell didn’t look it. Didn’t sound it, either. There were scratches on his face and blood trickled slowly out of the openings. Lucy gingerly prodded at his wounds, silently wondering whether or not to call for an ambulance.

“Anything else happen?” she asked as she appraised his injuries.

Nolan sighed. “Yeah,” he replied, sounding mournful. “I dropped your coffee.”

~

It wasn’t the average break-in. The man that had broken in and attacked Nolan knew him, at least in passing. He was the brother of the robber he’d fatally shot days before. Calling it in had alerted not just the on-duty officers, but a whole host of superiors involved in Nolan’s justified-shooting investigation. The only other witness to the attack, Lucy was left with no choice but to stay put until she could answer questions from both Commander West and Captain Andersen. Her plans to join Talia and Angela at the hospital in support of Tim were understandably delayed, but hopefully not derailed.

 _I’ll be there as soon as I can._ she texted Angela.

Commander West -Jackson’s dad- was the first to question her. Even off-duty he was a little intimidating, but not in a way that scared her. He projected a strength she found reassuring, especially now, reeling as she and Nolan both were from the home invasion.

He was all business at first. “Officer Chen. Tell me what happened exactly as you remember it, including what you’re doing here..”

Lucy nodded before speaking. “Yes sir. Nolan and I had dinner earlier tonight and watched a movie. I had a few beers and he offered to let me stay for the night rather than get a cab. I woke up about thirty minutes ago. My phone was ringing. I was asleep on the couch.” She’d left her makeshift bed intact, knowing it would act as proof that she and Nolan weren’t engaged in any improper behavior. “I went into Officer Nolan’s bedroom to let him know I was leaving. He loaned me a clean shirt and offered to make me coffee while I used the bathroom.”

“And how long were you in there?”

She thought. “It couldn’t have been more than three minutes. Five, max.”

“I see. Then what happened?”

“I heard the fighting. Heard a gun go off. I grabbed Officer Nolan’s off-duty weapon from his end table and came out of the bedroom and saw the man go through the window.”

Commander West took her statement in while keeping his expression passive. “And that’s the entire truth?”

She knew he wasn’t second-guessing her as much as he was piecing the scene together, but the question still made her a little nervous. Her voice cracked as she replied, “Yes, sir.”

“All right.” He nodded towards the patio, covered now shattered glass and yellow crime scene tape. “We found the sliding door open. Guessing that’s how Howard gained entry. He probably waited until you’d left the living room to come in. Didn’t want to deal with you too, I bet. You’re very lucky.”

She hadn’t realized that. It made her shiver. “I didn’t know he was out there. If I’d known-”

Commander West was quick to stop her from finishing that thought. “Don’t go down that road. ‘What ifs’ like that will drive you crazy. It played out how it played out, okay?”

Lucy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I just have one more question. Are you okay?”

For a second he was not just the commander. He was Mr. West, her friend’s dad. It was a different aspect to the strength he projected. Kind and fatherly, if a little distant. In the moment, she needed that and appreciated it from him.

“I’m a little freaked out,” she felt safe admitting, “But yes, I think I’m okay.”

His list of questions completed, the commander moved on to analyzing other aspects of the crime scene. Sensing her opening, Andersen approached Lucy next. She did not come with a list of her own questions, and only asked after Lucy’s wellness. “Are you all right, Chen?”

She nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Nolan bore the brunt of the attack.”

“I didn’t ask if you were hurt,” the Captain explained, “I asked if you’re all right. You saw your friend attacked in his own home. It’d be understandable if you were upset.”

At that, Lucy replied, “I am, ma’am, but I will be okay.”

“Okay,” she echoed, acknowledging the answer with a nod of her own. “Overheard you tell Commander West you were woken up by your phone ringing. Is that right?” She waited until Lucy answered to the affirmative before continuing. “I’m guessing that you know then that Isabel Bradford is in the hospital?”

Lucy paused before she replied. “Will… will someone get in trouble if I say yes, ma’am?”

Andersen gave her a crooked smile. “I’m sure Bradford needs all the support he can get tonight. No one’s getting in trouble for calling you.”

She exhaled in relief. “Then, yes ma’am. I know Isabel is in the hospital. Is there any word on how she’s doing?”

The captain shook her head. “None yet. If you’re heading up there, make sure you give Tim my best, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She checked on Nolan one more time before leaving. He’d been cared for by a medic and now sported butterfly sutures over his cuts, but was otherwise okay. Nothing a little Tylenol couldn’t fix, he said. The guest house was a crime scene for now, so after everyone left he planned to spend the night in the main house. He’d break the news about the wall to his friend in a few hours. She offered to vouch for him if Ben gave him a hard time, but he didn’t foresee it being an issue.

With her presence no longer required, Lucy left. She called Angela en route to the hospital.

“Sorry I’m running late. Something happened at Nolan’s house,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Angela replied. “Is everything all right?”

For the moment, she skirted the question. “l’ll tell you more when I get there.” Then she asked, “How is Isabel? What happened?”

Angela was hesitant to reveal too much over the phone. “I’ll tell you more when you get here.”

Her hand tightened on the steering wheel, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned white. She had to speak around the lump that formed in her throat. “I’m on my way.”

~

Angela was waiting by the ER entrance when Lucy pulled up. “I’ll walk you up,” she said.

Lucy was grateful for the company. They could talk about what happened while they walked. “How is she doing?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t look too good right now.” Her eyes began to glimmer as she spoke. She blinked rapidly, a clear attempt to fight back tears. “It’s good that you came. I think it’ll mean a lot to Tim.”

While Lucy appreciated the sentiment and knew it came from a genuine place, she didn’t agree. “I don’t know about that. I’m here because you called. Not because I think he needs me.” She had no delusions as far as that went.

“He’s your soulmate.”

“Yeah, and he hasn’t really talked to me in days. For all I know, he’ll take one look at me and tell me to leave.”

Angela thought differently. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Boot.”

She didn’t contradict her again, instead choosing to continue the walk silently as Angela led the way. They soon arrived at the ICU waiting room where Talia was waiting to update them.

“They’ve got her settled and stable,” she explained. “The bleeding stopped, but they need the swelling to go down before they can operate. If she can make it through the night, she stands a chance.”

“What happened?” Lucy asked.

“A dealer named Vance shot her in the head and dropped her in a dumpster.” She answered evenly with chilling stoicism. Lucy guessed that both Talia and Angela were trying to put a little distance between themselves and the event until each had the time and space to process their emotions. Hell, that could’ve been a contributing factor in why they called her. Both women had known Isabel during her former life as a cop. There was a layer to their involvement that Lucy had no context for, purely because of how little she knew about Isabel. She’d only known of her for a short time. They knew her differently. They knew her better.

“How’s Tim?” she asked.

“About as good as you can expect,” Talia said.

Simultaneously, Angela replied, “Holding it together, but barely. He’s with her now. Room 510.” Lucy began to walk off, expecting the others to join her, but she was called back. “Wait. What happened at Nolan’s house? You said you’d say.”

Her ordeal seemed so minor in comparison, but since they asked, Lucy shared. She faked composure about the break-in, hoping to sound less affected than she felt as she told them about Howard’s attack on Nolan. “The brother of the man he shot broke in and threatened Nolan. I was sleeping on his couch when you called. He got in a few minutes later. It was pretty intense.”

Both women looked dumbstruck at the news. “Jeez,” Talia interjected with shock. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. He wasn’t after me.” She tried not to think about the near-miss she might have had, nor did she want to dwell on the possibility of him watching through the window, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. “Maybe don’t mention it to Tim anytime soon, though? He’s got enough to worry about.”

Lucy once again turned to head towards Isabel’s room when she noticed neither woman followed. She turned around. “Are you not coming?”

Talia shook her head. “Wolfe and Vestri are still working the case. Gonna meet up with them.”

“And there’s only two visitors allowed in ICU room at a time,” Angela said. “I can stay in the waiting room if you think you’ll want to switch at some point.”

“You really think he’ll even want me to stay?”

Angela smirked before replying. “You know him. For all his acting like a loner, he hates being alone.”

~

All the lights were off except for one lone fluorescent bulb above Isabel’s bed. It cast a silver glow over her sleeping form. She was usually pale, but now she looked almost ghostly. Her wound had been packed and wrapped with white gauze that covered the entirety of her scalp. A large purple bruise formed over the left half of her face; evidence of trauma displaced from the bullet’s impact. A cannula assisted with her breathing, and machines beeped to her left, tracking her pulse, temperature, and oxygen levels.

A few feet away to Isabel’s right sat Tim on a narrow vinyl bench beneath a small square window. His head was lowered, his forehead pressed again his hands, propped up by his elbows leaning against his knees. He hadn’t heard her enter and looked up only when she whispered his name.

“Hey,” he breathed.

His eyes were red, his cheeks damp. Again, his voice sounded tight and tense. It was hard for Lucy not to run to him. She wanted to. Something inside her ached to rush to his side and embrace him, but she knew she shouldn’t. She knew she should hold back, avoiding even the appearance of impropriety for the sake of his wife, her boyfriend, and their jobs. Her feet still carried her forward of their own accord, moving faster than she would have chosen consciously. He stood up as she drew near and with that one movement, only inches separated them.

On the day they’d met, she had briefly (if a little foolishly) allowed herself to envision the future. At the time, she hadn’t realized it was far-off or distant, closer to a wish than reality. For a split-second she could imagine a similar picture now. One where she could wipe his tears away without feeling shame, without worrying about the implications, or what he, other officers, or the Captain herself might think. He deserved to be comforted when he mourned. He deserved a safe place when the world asked too much of him, and although she had resigned herself to being no more than his rookie, her desire to be a haven for him was deeply rooted. The image faded after a moment, evaporating almost as quickly as it came. Her hands remained at her side, and he thumbed stray tears away himself. She could hear the steady beeps of the monitor. The pace of his wife’s heart, still going strong by some miracle despite the severity of her injuries. Lucy took a step back, thinking it would break the spell. Although the fantasy had gone, the urge to console him persisted.

“How did you know?” Tim asked in a whisper.

“Angela called me.” She noticed his eyes narrowed as she named his friend. “She and Talia watched out for you while I took care of Nolan.”

He managed a small smile, but it was devoid of any cheer; an expression out of habit rather than actual emotion. “I guess expecting Lopez to mind her business is too big an ask.”

“Would you have called if it was left up to you?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to know.”

It hurt to think he still believed so little in her care for him, or didn’t understand how much of her own energy was invested now, motivated solely by her consideration for him. She tried not to let her disappointment register on her face, saying only in response, “I’m glad she called.” Then she motioned toward the bench, waiting until he sat before taking the space beside him. This time, she left ample room between their bodies. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Do you want to go rest? I’ve slept a little tonight. I can stay here with Isabel if you want to go home.”

“Not tired.”

She hated to ask, but still wondered quietly, “Do you want me to leave?”

He paused long enough that Lucy thought he might say yes. If that’s what he needed, she’d do as he asked. 

“No.” he said finally. “No, stay. Please.”

There was a tone to his voice she’d never heard before, a hundred words worth of pleading in a single “please”. It pulled at her heart. If this were happening to a friend -if this were Nolan or Jackson- Lucy would want to put her arms around them. She’d hold them closeand try to encourage them with her words and her presence that everything would be okay. But this was Tim. He was her soulmate, but she couldn’t call him a friend. There was a connection they so far lacked for her to be able to truly call him that and regard it on the same level as she did Nolan, Jackson, and others. At the same time, friend also didn’t seem like a large enough word. They were somehow less than friends, but also much, much more than that.

She couldn’t say that everything would be okay even if she wanted to. He’d warned her once about making promises she wasn’t able to keep. She didn’t see a way through this ordeal where everything would turn out all right. If Isabel lived -and how awful it was that that was only an “if”- her road to recovery would be long and arduous. It was possible she’d never be the same again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucy asked. Tim shook his head. “What can I do?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“This,” he finally said. “This is enough.”

~

The remainder of the night passed in long, silent hours, with the only breaks being when nurses came by periodically to check on Isabel. Although he claimed he wasn’t tired, Tim did end up dozing off around four in the morning. She shrugged out of Nolan’s sweatshirt and balled it up to act as a makeshift pillow for him, then helped him lay down. The movement roused him a little, but he was too exhausted to fight her and only stirred for a moment or two before falling back asleep. Allowing him to stretch out on the bench left no room for Lucy, so she sat cross-legged on the floor, situated in front of Tim’s chest. If she leaned back, her head brushed against his chest.

She was very careful to not lean back.

Without the sweatshirt, the hospital room was just a little too cold for her liking, but at least the chill helped keep her awake. That was good but also unfortunate, because time was determined to move at a crawl. It felt like days and not hours had lapsed before the sun began to peek through the window in orange and yellow rays. Shortly after sunrise, a nurse entered the room pushing a cart the held a computer and a tray of supplies.

“Shift change,” the nurse said to Lucy. “Going to have to ask you both to leave for awhile.”

Lucy responded with a wordless nod, then rose to her feet. Her hips and legs protested with every movement. Sitting on the tile for so long had been brutal on her joints. She hoped she could stretch the aches out a little on the walk to the car, otherwise she’d be working her next patrol with a limp.

She bent over Tim and put a hand on his shoulder, then whispered his name. It was all the wake-up he required. He opened his eyes slowly and sat up. He appeared no more rested than he had when he fell asleep, although now he did look a little sheepish.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

“A few hours. It’s almost seven now,” she replied.

Tim walked over to Isabel. Neither Lucy or the nurse said anything as he took hold of her hand, holding it gently in his own. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and murmured something Lucy couldn’t hear. She was overwhelmed by his display of tenderness, by the quiet intimacy of the moment, and had to look away.

He didn’t linger by her side much longer than that. When Tim left the room, Lucy followed.

“What now?” she asked as they waited for the elevator.

“Get to the station.” he answered dully. “We’ve got work to do.”

~

Lucy hadn’t expected Tim to want to be back on the job so quickly. Neither had Sergeant Grey, if the worried looks he shot Bradford’s way during the morning briefing were any indication, but he made no move to bar him from later participating in the operation to bring in the dealer who’d shot Isabel. She wasn’t sure whether that was the right call or not, given how personal this was for him, but wouldn’t contradict either officer. Since Sergeant Grey trusted Tim to keep his emotions in check during the raid, Lucy had no choice but to do the same.

The hunt for the dealer- a man that went by Vance- was all going down at the Bronson Estates, and if the “Bradford special” was any indication, Tim was gearing up for battle. At his insistence, both of them fortified their vests with trauma plates.

“This part of the ‘special’?” she asked as she tucked the plate under her shirt, a poor attempt at injecting levity into the situation.

He wasn’t amused, but responded drily, “Just a little added protection.”

The goal was to find Vance’s girlfriend, a young woman by the name of Cesiah Olivo. She would be their gateway into getting Vance. Tim and Lucy were joined by Angela, Jackson, and Talia, and it was determined that the best way to go about their objective was by splitting up. Each of the pairs took a floor, with Talia having one to herself. Lucy and Tim covered the third floor. Hers was the fourth apartment they’d checked. The intel had been good, but had overlooked a key detail. No one had mentioned that the girlfriend was pregnant, and thanks to a frequency jammer Vance kept in the basement of the building, they couldn’t reach dispatch to call for backup. They were flying completely blind. Gunshots in the distance put Tim and Lucy on high alert.

A few minutes later, a voice spoke through the door.

“To the police officers inside. I’m here for Cesiah.” Lucy’s skin crawled at the sound of Vance’s voice. Beside her, Cesiah stiffened. “Send her out and you walk away. You make us come in there, you won’t.”

Lucy positioned herself between Cesiah and the door as Tim replied. “No, you’re not. You can’t risk her getting hit in the crossfire. So you give up, and we’ll make sure she gets to the hospital.”

“I’m not leaving without my kid.”

“And we’re not leaving, period. So I’d say we’re at a stalemate.”

It bought them time, but not much. The door would only hold for so long and they couldn’t call for help.

Then Cesiah’s water broke.

Of all the ways Lucy anticipated the operation to pan out, delivering a baby was, uh… not on the list. Yet there they were, minutes away from a gunfight, with Tim standing guard at the door. Cesiah was in need, and there was no one else to help.

“Look, I know your birth plan didn’t involve a cop and your couch, but I promise you,” she grasped Cesiah’s hand for emphasis, swearing to her, “I promise you, I will protect you and your child. Okay?”

Cesiah, her face red and glistening with the exertion of her rapidly progressing labor, nodded quickly. “Okay.”

It was fortunate that Lucy was not alone, that she had Tim to handle the more violent aspects of the operation, allowing her to focus on Cesiah and her child. Despite the threat outside the apartment, the birth itself went smoothly. As Cesiah pushed with her encouragement, Lucy guided the baby out, catching and cleaning off the newborn using a towel before wrapping her in a blanket and handing the squalling baby girl to her waiting mother.

It was a strange, surreal moment of beauty. One that could not possibly last.

No sooner had Lucy removed her gloves than a group of men entered the room with guns drawn. She moved to grab her weapon, but was not quick enough. One of Vance’s crew fired in her direction and the bullet struck her square in the chest.

The round didn’t penetrate her trauma plate, but _fuck,_ it still stung like hell. The force of the shot knocked her onto her back, and knocked the wind out of her, too. She was only down for a second or two, but that was all it took for Vance to make his way to Cesiah. A struggle over the baby had started, with Cesiah desperately trying to fight him off herself while Tim dealt with what remained of the crew.

The man who’d shot Lucy had mistaken her for dead. Why else would he have turned his back to her? One good kick to the back of his knee, and he fell. He turned on her quickly, but never regained the upper-hand and was down for good once she managed to pepper-spray, subdue, and cuff him.

Upon realizing that his men were incapacitated and he was outnumbered, Vance fled. Cesiah sobbed with relief, crying even as backup finally arrived and escorted the handcuffed criminals out.

Lucy went to console Cesiah as Tim excused himself. “Ambulance should be here by now,” he said. “I’ll lead them up.”

After he left, Cesiah continued to cry. She cradled the baby to her chest and gently rocked back and forth.

“It’s okay.” Lucy said gently. “You don’t need to be scared anymore. We’ll make sure Vance won’t come near you again.”

“That’s not it.” Cesiah replied as she looked down at her daughter. Though the infant had screamed throughout the entire altercation, she was calm now. Calm and quiet. “She’s here,” she whispered in awe. “I can’t believe she’s here.” Tiny tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.

Lucy sat beside her, near the baby’s feet. From here, she could see the baby’s face. She looked almost cherubic, chubby and perfect. One of her tiny hands had come out of the swaddle and was now tucked up under her chin. Short black hair crowned her head, a halo of fluff. She was absolutely precious. “Have you thought of a name?” Lucy asked.

Cesiah nodded with a smile. “Theresa. After my mother.” She ran one finger over each of Theresa’s little fingers, then looked up at Lucy. “Is your name just Lucy, or is it Lucille?”

“It’s Lucille.” Her dad had a soft spot for _I Love Lucy_ reruns, which informed her birth name. There were worse people to be named after than Lucille Ball.

“Would it be okay if I gave her that as a middle name?” she asked.

Humbled, Lucy nodded quickly, smiling her agreement as she gazed at the baby. “Theresa Lucille. It’s a beautiful name. And with such an exciting start, I doubt your life will ever be boring, little one.” Both women laughed at that, even as Lucy’s eyes began to well up.

Tim returned then, accompanied by paramedics hauling a stretcher. They tended to Cesiah immediately. Lucy was quick to brush her tears away with her knuckle, but he still caught it.

“Going soft on me, Chen?” he joked, but his voice sounded uncharacteristically tender.

She shook her head quickly. “Of course not, sir.”

“Good. You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. I, uh…” he hesitated for a moment, “I saw you took a hit. Not going to lie, it scared the shit out of me when you went down.”

At that, she had to smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me, Bradford?”

She figured he would say no, maybe crack a joke at her expense for even asking. Instead, his answer surprised her, one word rendering her speechless.

“Always,” was all he said.

~

There was a mountain of paperwork to complete concerning the operation. While no one said as much, an unspoken agreement united the cops who had been part of the raid; they were determined to get Vance put away for good, which meant the reports needed to be airtight. Tim drove her back to the station but disappeared shortly after, which was fine by Lucy. She understood his mind was elsewhere and did not hold it against him as she completed the filing alone.

It was close to five p.m. by the time Lucy left, and she was wiped out. The adrenaline high from the events of the last twenty-four hours had faded and fatigue was setting in, a deep exhaustion that made her feel tired down to her bones. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep the entire clock around, but her promise to visit Cesiah was fresh in her mind. She also had dinner plans with Cam, although she scarcely had the energy for one engagement let alone both; she would need to choose one. It wasn’t a hard decision. One was plans, and one was a promise. Cam would understand, she thought blithely as she slid dialed his number while walking to her car.

She was right, of course. He understood, as he always did whenever she had to cancel, but sounded uncharacteristically disappointed tonight. “What happened?” he asked.

What _didn’t._ She’d dealt with a week’s worth of excitement in a single day. To tell him all of it would too much for a phone call. “Had a late night last night and a full day today,” she replied instead. “I’m beat.”

“I didn’t think you were working last night.” It wasn’t an accusation, per se, but there was a perceptible edge to his statement.

“I got called in to help my TO with something.” That was technically the truth; she _was_ called by Angela. “It was a little out of the blue.” Then, she said, “You’re upset.”

There was a moment where he didn’t answer. “No, I’m not.”

She could tell by his tone then and by his previous comments that that was a blatant lie, but what could she do? She didn’t want to cause an argument by insisting, so she ignored it for now, apologized profusely, and told him she’d call the next day. The call ended a moment later, and she chucked her phone onto the passenger’s seat before pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards the hospital.

The paramedic that oversaw the transport had informed Lucy that Cesiah and her child were taken to Cedars-Sinai, the same hospital where Isabel was currently being treated. If Lucy were a pessimist, she’d have written it off as nothing more than a coincidence; having a small measure of faith, she chose to consider it providence. Some sort of sign, though what kind, she wasn’t sure yet.

The sun was almost finished setting by the time Lucy arrived. It was a little too dark to qualify as “golden hour”, the sky more purple than pink and orange, but there was still light enough that the street and parking lights had not turned on yet. It amused her to acknowledge that she’d been here earlier and witnessed the sunrise, and now returned in time for nightfall. This had been the longest day.

She parked and got out of her car, but only made it a few steps before she heard her name being called. Lucy turned to see Tim about twenty feet to her right. He stood beside his truck, but walked towards her when she met his eyes. She crossed to meet him halfway.

“Are you visiting Isabel?” she asked.

Tim nodded. “Just did. Checking on Cesiah?”

“Yep. Her and little Theresa Lucille,” she said with a grin.

“Wow, a namesake. Big honor.” He didn’t smile, but she could hear the teasing in his voice. “Try not to let it go to your head.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I definitely will,” she replied with a laugh. Then, she asked, “How is Isabel?”

His pause was long enough that she began to fear for the worst. “She pulled through surgery,” he replied, and Lucy exhaled as relief washed over her. “The doctors have high hopes she’ll manage a normal life after this.”

Normal. After all she had been through, what would a normal life look like for Isabel Bradford? She’d probably need physical therapy of some sort. Would she go to rehab, too? If she did and was successful in staying clean, it was probably just a matter of time before she was back at Tim’s side. Her rightful place.

Lucy kept those wonderings to herself, though. There would be time for questions later, now that Isabel was out of the woods. She responded to him cheerfully, although a good deal of that cheer was feigned for his benefit. “That’s great news. I’m really, really happy for you, Tim.”

“Yeah,” he replied, both his face and voice devoid of any emotion. “Thanks.”

A stretch of awkward silence followed. Desperate to fill it (and also because it was the truth), Lucy said, “I’m sorry about Isabel. I’m so sorry. If I’d known that this would happen, I wouldn’t have-”

“- Hey, shhh. Don’t. Don’t do that,” he chided gently. “What happened to Isabel isn’t on you.”

With anyone else, she would’ve taken that as a pardon, but she knew him well enough that she didn’t trust that to be the case here. He may have been offering her absolution, but she guessed it was not without a trade-off. It was likely he didn’t blame her because he blamed himself.

After a beat, she whispered, “It’s not on you either.”

His dismissiveness confirmed her suspicions. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you?”

Once he realized she wasn’t going to allow him to just brush it off, he responded more deliberately through a frown. “Yes, Lucy. I do.”

Appeased for now (but she’d be looking to belabor the point later if necessary), she replied, “Okay. Good.” She turned to go.

“Lucy,” he called, “when were you going to tell me about the break-in at Nolan’s?”

The crease in her brow deepened as she faced him again. How on earth had he… she realized the truth a split-second later. Oh. Great. _Dammit, Angela,_ Lucy thought as she gritted her teeth. “I’m guessing Lopez told you.”

He gave her a grin that was small and wry. “See? You can’t trust her. She has it out for us.”

“Seriously,” she agreed, “but, to answer your question: eventually.”

“Eventually?” He was neither impressed nor satisfied with her vague answer.

“You had enough going on with Isabel and,” she shrugged, feeling a bit bashful as she confessed quietly, “I thought you were mad at me.”

Tim was visibly confused by this revelation. “Wait, what? You thought I was mad at you?” When she said yes, he told her, “I thought _you_ were mad at _me_.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. Because…” he looked away. “I guess I thought you felt like I let you down.”

“You thought… I felt… like you let me down?” She had to say it aloud herself in an attempt to make sense of it.

He bristled a little as she stumbled through the sentence. “I realize how dumb it sounds now.”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied as she ran over their most recent interactions in her head. Except for their confrontation outside Isabel’s apartment, Lucy couldn’t think of a single instance where that thought could’ve gained a foothold. Sure, he annoyed her sometimes, infuriated her others, but he’d also come clean to Nell about his underhanded methods during the round up. He’d stopped short of helping his wife. Both -all- because Lucy had asked. Every time she’d indicated that she expected better from him, he’d risen to the challenge.

Let her down? Not even close.

“I wish you would’ve talked to me sooner,” she whispered.

“Yeah, well. I wish you would’ve talked to me, too.” His answer came across pointedly, a clear reference to her holding back the break-in at Nolan’s. 

Chastened, she apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Tim replied.

They said goodbye soon after and went their separate ways. It was a rather anticlimactic end after a week of building up to a blowout, only to find that the tension between them had all been a misunderstanding. She didn’t leave the conversation thinking all of their issues were magically resolved, but they were on better terms than they were when the day had begun. She was still learning how to walk the line between colleagues and soulmates, but Lucy was more determined than ever to do it well. She hoped Tim felt the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An unscheduled update, the rarest of fanfic unicorns! The next two chapters are going to be shorter and serve as transitions into a new arc for Lucy and Tim. Since those will be shorter, I decided to get this one out early to make up for it! Still planning to update Friday as well, although I may push it to Saturday to give this chapter a chance to breathe. Either way, expect another in a few days.  
> I may be moving soon, so there's a chance that updates might need to slow down for a little while. I don't want that to happen, but... yeah. We'll see. That's another factor motivating me in getting as much out as I can beforehand.  
> Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing and leaving kudos! You guys are the best!  
> Xx Suz


	13. Maybe Next Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Easy to let you go most of the time  
> The ache in my chest has been slipping my mind  
> See on the screen it's a wonderful life
> 
> I wish you were here  
> Maybe next year"  
> \- "Maybe Next Year", Jenny Owen Youngs

It felt like Lucy blinked, and suddenly it was Christmas. No, time hadn’t really moved that fast, but the days were so full of training and the nights with studying and friends and her boyfriend that the last two weeks until the holiday flew by. She made plans with her family, deciding the upcoming holiday was when she’d take Cam to meet her parents. Not that there was ever _really_ a good time to subject anyone to her mom and dad, but Christmas, when their sharper edges would be softened by the holiday spirit, was as good a time as any.

Her plans were thrown into flux when with just a handful of days to go, Tim informed her they’d be picking up a 12-hour shift on Christmas Day.

It wasn’t uncommon for shift trades to take place around certain popular holidays. Tim had been offering to pick up shifts for the big ones long before he was her TO, or so he said. He considered it a chance to build camaraderie with officers who would appreciate the time at home more. Lucy had learned by now not to complain when he made calls like that, and to be honest, she thought it was sort of sweet that he’d volunteer to work on Christmas Day so someone like Officer Wrigley could spend the morning at home with his kids. She had enough notice that changing plans with Cam wasn’t an issue; he usually took December 24th through the first of the year off anyway, since so few people were interested in working out in the middle of their holiday celebrations. He treated it as a sort of last hurrah before the New Year resolution-ers flooded his classes. She informed her parents that she would have to cancel, and asked whether they would be willing to celebrate on Christmas Eve or the 26th instead.

They were less understanding than Cam had been. In fact, her mother was livid, irate at even the suggestion of moving their celebration.

“Absolutely not. Lucy, Christmas is a _family_ day,” her mother whined. “Why you chose a job that disrespects _family,_ I’ll never know.”

And here she’d thought she’d heard all her mother’s arguments against becoming a police officer. Lucy gritted her teeth, fighting to keep her restraint in check. “My job doesn’t disrespect family, Mom,” she replied. “Sometimes I will have to work holidays. Sometimes things come up. You wouldn’t tell an ER nurse to stay home on Christmas. Emergencies happen.”

Her mother sniffed in displeasure. “Well, can’t you tell your boss no?”

“No, mother,” she replied and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She could feel a tension headache brewing with every passing second. “No, I really can’t.I have to do what they tell me for my entire probationary period. No questions asked.”

“What if you just don’t go?”

“Then I’ll get fired, Mom.”

“And I suppose that would be so bad?”

She suppressed a heavy sigh. “Yes, Mother. That would be bad.” After months of her parents expressing disappointment in her for no other reason than her choice to pursue police work over psychology, Lucy was reaching a tipping point. This was who she was, this is what she wanted to do, and she was tired of letting them cut her down over her choices. When she said as much to her mother, she answered not with words, but by hanging up. Just like that, Christmas with the Chens was officially canceled.

An hour after the conversation with her mom and following one tear-filled call to Cam, Lucy realized it was probably for the best. Her parents had been so vocally against her choice of career since the beginning. The disdain they harbored for her job had only increased when she visited them for Thanksgiving. She would’ve been mortified if they behaved that way in front of Cam. Besides, while Mom had not figured out that Tim was her daughter’s training officer, her mother had managed through her own craftiness to learn that Lucy worked with her soulmate, which was in closer proximity than she’d yet confessed to Cam. She hadn’t been sure whether to trust her mother to not let that slip at some point in the evening, and was relieved that she no longer had to consider bringing her in on the secret.

She still hadn’t told Cam the truth about her soulmate; about Tim. Lucy wanted to, but the timing never seemed right. The longer she went without telling him, the harder it would be; therefore, it was getting easier and easier to convince herself that she could pull this off without ever bringing it up. Pull _what_ off, exactly, she didn’t know, but nevertheless she postponed that talk once again.

Christmas Eve arrived and with their original plans scratched, Lucy had scrambled to make new ones. She and Cam exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve, then Facetimed with his family on the East Coast before sitting down to a Christmas dinner they claimed to have cooked together in pictures he posted to his Instagram. In truth, Cam cooked all the sides and dessert. The honey-baked ham was catered. Her contribution was a pitcher of homemade sangria. They ate dinner, then cuddled on the couch watching _It’s A Wonderful Life._ Lucy had seen the movie a dozen times before, but something about it this time hit her differently. She realized midway through that James Stewart reminded her of Tim. Not in looks; for as handsome as Jimmy had been, Tim was taller, more muscular, and in her opinion, much more attractive. It was their natures that seemed similar. Even-keeled, but passionate when the moment called for it. Humorous when he felt like it. Tim even used old-fashioned slang like George Bailey. Memories of him saying things like “hot damn” and “good night, nurse” came to mind, and she chuckled even though the scene onscreen was not particularly humorous.

“What’s funny?” Cam asked.

“Nothing,” she said, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling.  
“It’s just that my TO talks like Jimmy Stewart.”

She spent the night as Cam’s apartment and departed early on Christmas morning in order to stop by her apartment before her shift. He’d packed her a care package the night before. It was filled with leftovers and one whole pecan pie just for her, which she grabbed from the fridge before returning to the bedroom to say goodbye. Lucy kissed him softly before she left, once on his lips and twice more against his temple, then whispered “Merry Christmas” in his ear. He stirred just enough to say it back, but was asleep again by the time she shut the bedroom door behind her.

~

“Merry Christmas!” Lucy exclaimed when Tim joined her at the shop after she’d finished kitting up following the morning briefing.

He absorbed her greeting, but didn’t reciprocate it. Hell, he didn’t even say hello. All he responded with was, “Is it?”

Her brows knit together at his response. “I take it you don’t celebrate?”

“I didn’t say that.” he replied, swinging open the driver’s side door as he spoke. He gave no explanation, but she was familiar enough with his moods by now to know to avoid bringing up Christmas again for the sake of peace during their shift.

It was a few hours into the day before Lucy realized wishing him a happy holiday might have been unintentionally insensitive. From what she knew, he was on his own and had been for quite awhile. If he had a relationship with his parents or any siblings, he never mentioned them. To her knowledge, his family extended only as far as his wife, from whom he was still technically estranged. With just a little perspective, she concluded it wasn’t that he was cranky during the holiday like the Scrooge cliche she’d initially assumed him to be. If anything, he was probably sad. He was probably lonely, and as Angela had noted weeks ago in the hospital, Tim only projected the loner thing. He could handle being on his own, but he didn’t always like it.

Their shift passed quickly, if not a little quietly. Most of their calls were domestic in nature. Pacifying familial disagreements was apparently a common issue on major holidays. Most arguments were resolved without so much as a citation, but occasionally a merrymaker or a family feud got rowdy. Consequently, they still made a handful of arrests. By the end of the day, what remained of Lucy’s Christmas spirit hung by a fraying thread.

It was easier to get some of her joy back once she got home and remembered she had a fridge full of leftovers waiting for her. A Christmas dinner with all the fixings was just the thing to correct her mood.

Lucy carried her plate and a glass of wine to the living room and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the television. The channel was still set to Turner Classic Movies when she turned the TV on. She’d zoned out on a Robert Redford marathon after studying the other night and never changed it. Now the programming had switched to Christmas movies, and who else should cross the screen but James Stewart, this time playing a shopkeeper in 1940s-era Hungary. Remembering how he reminded her of Tim the night before, her mind wandered. She thought of Tim in that little house by himself. What was he doing now, she wondered. Would he celebrate at all, or was he resigned to let the day pass him by without much fanfare? Within a second, she was on her feet and walking towards the kitchen. She covered her plate with a little aluminum foil and put it back in the fridge before packing up the rest of the leftovers and half of the pecan pie. Then, she drove to Tim’s house.

She parked her car on the opposite side of the street to avoid alerting him to her presence. His truck was parked in the driveway, so she knew for certain that he was home. As she walked up, Lucy noticed the lights in the living room were on; so was the TV. Once she got closer, she realized he was watching _It’s A Wonderful Life._ Lucy smirked to herself. The similarities between him and Jimmy may not have been as unintentional as she thought. She could not spot any Christmas decorations either in or outside the house, but she also didn’t linger to find out for sure. Instead, she simply placed the bag of food on his doormat, got back in her car, and drove away. When she rounded the corner and was out of sight, she pulled over and sent him a text.

**_You should go check your doorstep._ **

A second later, she got a response.

**_Why?_ **

Typical Tim, she thought with a smirk. Couldn’t do a single thing she asked without questioning it first. **_Just do it okay? Merry Christmas._**

A minute passed before she got another message.

**_You didn’t have to do that. Thanks._ **

Lucy replied, **_I know I didn’t. You’re welcome,_** then drove back home, a satisfied smile on her face the entire way. She only noticed he’d sent another message as she put her car in park outside her apartment building.

**_Merry Christmas, Lucy._ **

~

If Lucy thought she’d get rest following Christmas, she was sorely mistaken. She was informed the day after Christmas that Cam and his six closest friends had a tradition they held dear. Every year, they pooled their financial resources (some of them quite ample) to rent a villa suite at the Waldorf-Astoria Beverly Hills, with the express purpose of hosting a party to ring in the new year. The parties were themed, and this year’s event was a black and white party. Lucy was invited as Cam’s plus one, and once Christmas was over, it was all he could talk about. This year he was in charge of RSVPs. He’d invited Jackson, who had said he’d try to stop by but wouldn’t fully commit. Lucy invited Nolan, but he turned the invitation down outright. Henry was coming into town a few days after the New Year, and he had things to prepare to that end. Besides, he said, parties weren’t his scene.

They weren’t Lucy’s scene either. She had never been to a black and white party before. She hadn’t been to many parties before, period. She was a bit shy in college and had only been brave enough to attend a single kegger. She did fine when it came to going out with a small group of friends; even in a crowded restaurant, a core gathering of four or five was all she needed to have a nice time and not feel drained by the end of the night. With a party -and as a host’s girlfriend- she was expected to meet forty-plus people. She was exhausted at the thought, but willing to bear the discomfort for Cam’s sake. It was only one night, after all.

A party with a black and white dress code removed a little bit of the guesswork from planning her outfit, but the invitation also said “casual cocktail”, which was just vague enough to be useless to her. Searching the term on Pinterest brought up a myriad of results with no consistent theme among them. Cam couldn’t really help, but for context told her he planned to wear a black suit with a black button-up, and no tie. She offered to match him, but he encouraged her that wasn’t necessary. He wanted her to wear whatever she wanted, be it black or white. She did a little searching, a little window shopping, but nothing caught her eye. On the day of the party and with only a few hours before she was meant to meet Cam at the hotel, she still hadn’t chosen what to wear. Nothing she tried seemed right.

Out of desperation, Lucy scrolled through her contacts. Usually, she’d call her college best friend -Rachel- for things like this, but she was out of town visiting family. If she reached out to Nolan or Jackson, she knew they’d try to help, but she was also deeply terrified o _f how_ that help might turn out. That left her with only one other person she could call, a co-worker she knew had an eye for fashion and would at least set her on the right course. It felt silly, just shy of stupid, and was little out of bounds of their working relationship as it currently stood.

 _Desperate times, desperate measures,_ she thought as she pressed dial on Angela’s number.

“Lopez? Hey, it’s Lucy. I know this sounds weird, but I need a favor.”

~

It was lucky for her that Angela was available on short notice and feeling charitable, and even luckier that Cam agreed to invite her to the party as a way of saying thanks for helping. Within the hour, she was at Lucy’s apartment, a garment bag of dresses in one hand and a box of separates, shoes, and accessories in the other.

“All right, Chen, let’s do the damn thing.” She marched her armful of clothing over to the couch and promptly dumped the box out before opening the garment bag and laying out the dresses.

“Holy shit,” Lucy said as she watched her sofa disappear under Angela’s clothing.

“What? You said you wanted options.”

“Yeah, options. This,” she gestured to the pile with a laugh, “is a storefront.”

“Okay, I admit I _may_ have gotten a little excited when you said it’s a party,” she admitted, then picked up a slinky black dress from the top of the heap. The front and back were covered in sequins of varying sizes. It appeared to be held up by two thin spaghetti straps and prayer. “Try this one on first.”

They rotated through the outfits and after a few minutes of deliberation, landed on a bright white, form-fitting wiggle dress for Lucy. It fit her like a glove, and Angela wolf-whistled when she stepped out of the bathroom wearing it.

“That’s the one, Chen. It’s perfect.”

“Really?” Lucy ran her hands over the folds of the fabric. She turned toward the mirror, cheating her body this way and that to see the dress from every angle. It was pure vanity, but she particularly liked the way the ruching cinched her waist, and how the skirt clung to her hips and ass. Once she paired it with white ankle-strap stilettos, she felt pretty sexy, but she still needed reassurance before making her final choice.

“Are you kidding?” Angela took a few steps closer and fiddled with the dress’s shoulder draping as she spoke. “Cam won’t know what hit him. If I weren’t six days away from zero, I’d ask for your number.”

The compliment was overshadowed by the news that Angela’s timer was so close to completing its countdown. “What? You’re zeroing out?” When they’d last spoken about timers, there had been a few months left on her clock. Lucy couldn’t believe that much time had passed already.

Angela’s face was a combination of joy and trepidation as she nodded. “Yep. Should meet my soulmate sometime on January 5th.”

“That’s great news, Lopez. I’m so happy for you!” When she didn’t acknowledge her congratulations, Lucy asked, “Are _you_ happy for you?”

She shrugged. “Just a little nervous, you know? There’s the way I want it to go, and the way it will, and I’m trying to remind myself that those two things might not look the same at all.”

Lucy could empathize with Angela’s fears. “Believe me,” she said, “I know exactly how you feel.”

With Lucy’s outfit decided, Angela procured hers from the options remaining. She combined two of the separates, deciding on a floor-length, black skirt with a slit up the side and a clingy, black, long-sleeved shirt that was cropped an inch above the waist. She chose to wear white heels with a pointed toe, a pop of contrast that drew attention to her toned legs with every step she took. After they were dressed, they got to work on hair and makeup. At Angela’s suggestion, Lucy kept her makeup simple and natural except for a swipe of cherry red lipstick on her mouth. Angela went the opposite route, applying a smoky shadow to her eyelids and rouging her cheeks in a way that was dramatic, but not too much.

They saved hair for last. Angela was blessed with gorgeous, loose curls, which she wore down and tousled vigorously to encourage volume. Lucy had no such luck but thought soft waves would look nice with the dress. Although she knew her way around a curling wand, Angela offered. Lucy, touched by the gesture, didn’t say no.

“I grew up with brothers, you know. Learned how to do hair at slumber parties in middle school.” She clicked the curling iron’s clamp shut twice, the ceramic clacking together with every snap. “Don’t worry, Chen. I haven’t burnt anyone in years,” she teased.

As she curled her hair, Lucy said, “Thanks for helping me, Angela. That means a lot.”

She tried to downplay it. “Please. I’m happy to help. Plus you’re taking me to the Waldorf, so it’s not like I’m getting nothing out of this.” She finished styling, raked her fingers gently through the strands to break up the ringlets, then swept the whole lot over Lucy’s left shoulder. She pinned it in place with a clip from her supplies, a dainty silver and pearl barrette. Moving her hair aside made the tattoo beneath her right ear a focal point; the effect was stunning, if Lucy said so herself.

“I know, I know,” Angela said to her reflection with a grin as she pulled out her phone and snapped a few pics of the end result, “I’m amazing.”

~

If Lucy had to define Cam’s New Years Eve party with a single word, the word she’d choose would be _chaotic._ Although they got to the hotel just twenty minutes after the 9pm start time, it was already in full swing when Lucy and Angela arrived. Cam and his friends were a raucous bunch. Kind people, and fun, if just a little too rowdy for her tastes. It was good they’d rented the villa and not a smaller suite. The space gave them more room to spread out, and the partygoers split between the living room, the dining room, both bedrooms (“leave the doors open, thank you very much”), and the large private terrace that provided a picturesque view of Beverly Hills at night.

Lucy was glad Angela had come with her. Having a person to talk to other than her boyfriend made her feel a little less out of place. She’d thought she’d have that from Jackson too, but he’d so far failed to show up. Angela was happy to hang with her for a while, but she was also outgoing, vivacious, and looked incredible; she managed to ingratiate herself to Cam’s friends quicker and with more success than Lucy had, and she felt selfish the longer she held Angela back. She spotted her every once in a while after that, catching her as she walked around taking pictures of the villa or with other partygoers. She even took a few candids of Lucy and Cam together. 

Cam stayed by Lucy’s side longer, but since he was one of the hosts, it was important checked on his guests. At first she followed him from person to person, but after a while felt like a puppy trotting behind him and let him go on his own. Left to her own devices, she sipped on a glass of champagne and tried not to look bored as she alternated between the terrace and the living room.

By 11:45, she was well and truly over it. Overwhelmed by the noise and by the crowd, Lucy craved a quiet place to regain her composure The party had spilled into the hallway, so that was no escape. One of the bedrooms would’ve been perfect, but the no-closed-door policy wrecked that idea. So she topped off her champagne and marched into the bathroom, then locked the door behind her.

Almost immediately, she felt the tension in her shoulders uncoil with just a little distance between her and the revelry. The door was heavy enough to block most of the sounds from outside, but the thump of music and the murmur of conversation occasionally made it through in a muted din. She removed her shoes and padded barefoot over to the bathtub, where she crawled into in the large square shaped marble tub and reclined.

She meant to relax for a minute, only looking to breathe and gather her thoughts and fortitude enough to see the night through, but as the minutes passed, Lucy decided to reach out to her absent friends and let them know how missed they were. Her first call was to Nolan. If the way her call went straight to voicemail was any indication, he was already asleep. For all she knew, he could’ve celebrated the new year on Eastern Standard Time and called it a night. That sounded like something he’d do. She giggled to herself as she dialed Jackson’s number next.

He answered, but the sound that came through the phone speaker rivaled the noise from the living room. “Jackson?” she said, trying to speak over the ruckus without drawing attention to her hiding place.

 _“WHAT?_ ” he yelled.

“Happy New Year!”

_“WHAT?”_

She tried again. “I said, Happy New Year!”

_“I CAN’T HEAR YOU! I’M AT A CONCERT.”_

“I noticed.”

_“WHAT?”_

She hung up and texted him.

 ** _I was just trying to say Happy New Year. So, Happy New Year! And also RIP your eardrums._** He didn’t reply, but that was okay. She wasn’t expecting an answer from any of her friends tonight.

Which brought Lucy to the next person on her list of recent contacts. Her thumb floated over Tim’s name, too nervous to press dial. Even though they’d made up (so to speak), their relationship other than TO/Boot was still pretty undefined, despite the boundaries they’d tried to establish (and sort of failed to uphold). They were soulmates just beginning to know one another, and still strangers despite the months that had passed. Nowadays, it felt like they were trapped in a weird rhythm. They skirted forming an authentic connection the majority of the time, but moments where the shit hit the fan were like a brick on the gas pedal for their relationship.

 _Oh, well. Fuck it._ Lucy thought, and pressed the green button with a confidence she didn’t actually feel. This wasn’t a big deal, she told herself. She was just going to wish him a happy New Year, just like she’d done for her other friends. It would be a totally normal, chill exchange, and nothing at all for her to be anxious about. Besides, it was late. There was a good chance he was already in bed. She’d probably get his voicemail and need to reiterate her greeting the next day. 

He surprised her by picking up on the second ring. “Hello?”

She sat up straighter at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Tim. It’s me. I mean, Lucy. It’s Lucy.”

“Why are you calling?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine,” she replied. Leave it to him to assume something’s wrong right off the bat. “I was just calling to say Happy New Year.”

“… This couldn’t have waited until our next shift?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to be nice here. You know what nice is, right?”

It was like he hadn’t heard her. “Do you make a habit of calling people at midnight?”

“It’s not midnight yet, and if you didn’t want to talk, why did you pick up?” He didn’t answer, and she, deflated by his sniping, said, “Whatever. I’ll see you next shift.” She moved to hang up.

“Lucy, wait.” Tim said, and she slowly brought the speaker back to her ear. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.” she repeated.

There was a thud outside the bathroom door, followed by a chorus of “ohhhhhhs” and a few shouts of “party foul”. Whatever had happened, it was loud enough that Tim heard it and commented, “Where are you? It sounds like a war zone.”

“Close,” she replied with a wry chuckle. “I’m at a little shindig Cam and his friends are having.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Picture a frat party, then add a dash of fancy.”

He sighed into the phone. “Probably a better night than I’m having.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she replied, sinking farther down into the tub. “What are you up to?”

“Sitting in bed and shopping for rehabs.”

Yikes. She blushed, feeling embarrassed and a little sheepish for complaining to him so freely. “Okay. You win.” Then she added in a brighter tone, “At least it’s quieter there, right?” He confirmed it was. “And it’s probably more comfortable than sitting in a bathtub.”

“Is that where you are right now?” Tim asked. “In a bathtub?”

“You weren’t wrong with that war zone comparison. I saw my escape, I took it, and I regret nothing.” He laughed lightly at her answer. It was a nice sound, that laugh of his. She didn’t get to hear it often. She could picture his smile; despite being a rare sight, Lucy knew by heart the way the lines around his eyes deepened with every grin, and how even a smirk formed handsome creases on either side of his mouth. “I wish I were there,” she heard herself whisper. Then, realizing how that could be taken, she was quick to amend. “Where it’s quiet, I mean.”

Tim was silent for a long enough stretch of time that Lucy worried she’d managed to offend him. She hadn’t meant _there_ , as in there with him. At least, she didn’t think so. Or maybe she did. She certainly didn’t mean to say that aloud, but before she could correct (or incriminate) herself further, he replied, “Maybe next year.”

She tried not to dwell on the undercurrents of his response, nor did she attempt to pinpoint the nameless emotion that had filled each syllable of his answer. It almost sounded like hope, but it also hesitated. It was better to leave it be as the parsing would drive her crazy. “Yeah, maybe,” she agreed in a whisper.

They both fell silent then, yet neither attempted to end the call. Instead, they let the peaceful moment stretch on for as long as possible, until it was interrupted by the sound of cheering and whistles. The countdown to twelve had just ended. The new year had begun.

“What’s happening over there? It got loud again,” Tim said.

“Must be midnight,” Lucy replied, and a glance at her phone’s clock confirmed it. “Look at that. 2019.” She’d never been kissed at midnight on New Years Eve before. She’d never had anyone to kiss. Cam was going to be the first, and she missed it.

She realized almost immediately that she was not sorry for missing it. She was not sorry, and she did not regret it. To her, that revelation was both telling and sobering. 

Not long after that, she heard a voice on the other side of the door. “Lucy?” Angela called, following it with three rapid knocks. “You in there?”

She scrambled to her feet, hopped out of the tub, and grabbed her shoes. “The enemy has spotted me,” she joked to Tim. “Looks like I have to go.”

“Okay,” he replied, then added, “Happy New Year, Lucy.”

“Happy New Year, Tim.”

… _Maybe next year._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY some progress with these two! And it's about damn time! A few things:  
> \- Angela wasn't originally supposed to be at the party. I know that might seem out of the blue but trust me, she has her own angle she's working. More on that is coming!  
> \- The movie Lucy watches for a minute on Christmas is "The Shop Around the Corner", better known as its remake "You've Got Mail". It's a cute little movie, if you're into old films! Now, I don't necessarily agree that Tim and Jimmy Stewart are all that similar, but I do think when you have burgeoning feelings for someone, you tend to see them everywhere.  
> \- I'm posting pictures of the dress Lucy and Angela wore to the party to my tumblr gonzo-the-okay . tumblr . com . I'll do the same with pictures of the villa where the party is held in case anyone is interested in seeing exactly what I was trying to describe.  
> Hope you all have a good weekend! Thank you for reading, reviewing, leaving kudos, and otherwise supporting this story!  
> Xx Suz


	14. Priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pretty soon you won't remember a thing  
> And I'll be distant, the stars reminiscing  
> Your heart's been wasted on me"  
> \- "Decoy", Paramore

Lucy was still struggling to redo the straps on her shoes when she opened the door to the bathroom. Angela stood on the other side, hand on her hip, a knowing smirk on her face. She’d discarded her shoes, too, and carried them in one hand by the heels. “Something wrong, Chen? You look a little…” she paused just to make Lucy squirm, her smirk widening as she finally said, “flushed.”

She was tempted to touch her face to check, but resisted. She felt the warmth spreading across her cheeks and neck enough to know that Angela wasn’t lying. “Nope, nothing wrong here. Just got a little overheated.”

Angela pulled a face at that answer, pursing her lips in an unspoken _uh huh,_ but didn’t call her on it aloud. Instead, all she said was, “Cam is looking for you. You missed the countdown. I think the poor boy is bummed.”

“Thanks. I’ll check on him him,” Lucy replied, and went off to find him. It took some looking, but she eventually located him outside on the terrace, still working through his glass of champagne from the toast at midnight. He greeted her with a smile, an embrace, and a kiss to her forehead. He was not, as Angela assumed, “bummed”, but he did ask where she’d gone. “I was starting to get worried,” he said.

She was quick to dispel his fears to the best of her ability. “Just needed to take a breather,” was her true, but intentionally vague reply. “I sort of lost track of time.” Then, to make up for it, she pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. Nothing too deep and certainly nothing heated, but it still earned them a few whoops and hollers from his nearby guests, which again made Lucy blush.

She and Angela did not stay too long after midnight. Both were expected at work in a few hours for the late morning shift. Being that Angela drove, once she decided to leave, Lucy had no choice but to follow. Normally she would’ve stuck out the rest of the evening for Cam’s sake, but he planned to spend the night at the hotel in order to clean up the next morning. He snuck away from the party and his hosting duties long enough to walk Angela and Lucy out to the car, giving Lucy one more kiss before he left.

Neither woman said a word as they made their way out of the hotel parking garage. It was only after they were on the street, heading towards Lucy’s apartment, that Angela said, “So. Cam seems nice.”

Lucy nodded, sensing by her tone she was angling at something, but not yet knowing what that _something_ was. “Yep. He’s a really good guy.”

“And, if you don’t mind me saying so, really handsome.”

“Thanks. I know.”

“Like, almost obscenely handsome. ‘How-dare-he’, handsome.”

“Totally. Got it.” Was there a point to this, or was it just to openly thirst over her boyfriend? She knew Angela grew up with just brothers, but if this was her attempt at a bonding technique, it was strange by all accounts.

She caught Angela grinning from the corner of her eye as she said, “Weird that he doesn’t know your training officer is your soulmate, though.”

Lucy froze in her seat. Dammit. She _knew_ Angela had been building up to something. Knew it the second she saw her cheeky look after she opened the door. In her panic over the party, Lucy’s focus had been singular, thinking only about the right outfit to the point of obsession. She’d overlooked a major flaw in inviting Angela out, and only now had the sense to feel really foolish at such a huge oversight on her part. “How did you know that?” she asked, once her internal mini-meltdown subsided for the time-being.

Angela chortled. “Chen, come on. I’m gonna make detective one of these days. I can sniff out interpersonal shit in my sleep.” Anyone else would’ve sounded smug making such an assertion. Not Lopez, though. She said it evenly, her tone matter-of-fact. “He asked me what I did for a living, I told him I worked with you at the police station as a training officer, and then he asked about yours. You can tell a lot about what a person knows by the questions they ask, and the questions he was asking proved he has no idea that your TO is your soulmate. He knows your soulmate is named Tim, but he doesn’t even know your training officer’s name.”

“I didn’t think it would come up,” was her weak excuse. Okay, so that was not quite the truth, but it maybe wasn’t a lie, either. She had brought up her connection to her TO (and concealment thereof) whenever necessary before now, specifically with Nolan and Jackson. She’d just forgotten tonight in all the haste of preparing for the party; neglectful on her part, sure, but not malicious. “If I’d known,” Lucy whispered, “I would’ve said something.”

“Like?”

“Like, asked you to avoid the topic if you could.”

A look of disappointment crossed Angela’s face. Lucy felt small beneath it. “That your response is not to tell him the truth, but to ask me to lie for you is pretty telling. He deserves honesty from you.”

She looked down and nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” Then, she whispered, “It’s just hard.”

“What’s so hard about it?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve been dating two months and I haven’t told him.” It was probably from stress, but the clip holding her hair in place was suddenly unbearable; itchy and heavy. Lucy tore at it ungracefully to remove it, working against tangles as she spoke again. “I went from meeting my soulmate, to meeting his _wife_ and seeing every dream I had about him since I was fourteen evaporate in a second. But Cam didn’t know any of that when I met him. He didn’t know about Tim. He didn’t know about Isabel, he didn’t know that my soulmate was my TO. It was a clean slate, and… I mean, after everything that happened, don’t I deserve one good thing? One _easy_ thing?” She sighed deeply. “I just wanted so badly to prove to myself I could be happy without him.”

“Without Cam?”

“No,” Lucy said, her next words heavy on her tongue. “Without Tim.”

A pause followed, broken only by the sounds of the engine as they navigated streets filled with revelers. After the silence had lasted several minutes, Angela broke it.

“Let me ask you this,” she began. “Do you want to be with Tim?”

Lucy hadn’t been expecting that question. “I… don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Just answer.”

More out of habit than instinct, she responded, “I don’t think so,” but that wasn’t true; or at least, not the whole truth. “I don’t know,” was her next response, and closer to honesty than her first. “I think if he weren’t married, this would be a different discussion, but he’s with Isabel. He’s with her, and he’ll keep being with her. I mean, he was even shopping for rehabs for her tonight.”

Angela’s brow furrowed at this news. “How do you know that?”

“I _may_ have called him while I was hiding in the bathroom.” When Angela made a sound like protesting, she quickly added, “I was just trying to wish him a Happy New Year.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever, Boot.” She shook her head and laughed. “Okay. So if Tim weren’t with Isabel, what would you want to have happen?”

It was a scenario she tried not to entertain ever, even in her most private moments. So, with a deep breath in, she avoided it.

“I don’t see how this is helpful,” she replied and was quickly met by annoyed groans from Angela. “He _is_ with Isabel. And anyway, even if he weren’t, Talia thinks I shouldn’t be thinking about my soulmate during my rookie year, and she’s probably right.”

“Talia said that?” Understanding dawned over Angela’s face as more pieces fell into place for her. “Geez. If I’d known you were taking advice from Bishop, I would’ve changed my tack.”

“Your ‘tack’?”

“Let me ask you this,” Angela said, glossing over Lucy’s confusion without a second thought, “What exactly did Talia say to you?”

She tried to remember. “It was months ago. She made it sound like it would be complicated, if not impossible.” There was more, but it took some thinking before she recalled it all. “I think she’s worried it’ll negatively affect my career. And I know she said I deserve the chance to choose who I want to be with. That I don’t have to default to Tim just because my timer says so.”

“And is that what Cam is? You choosing who you want to be with?” When she didn’t reply, Angela forged on. “Choosing someone else isn’t as simple as choosing to _date_ someone else, Lucy. It’s putting someone else first. It’s prioritizing them. How can you possibly prioritize Cam if you won’t be completely truthful with him?”

To that, Lucy had no answer.

~

A few days passed without another mention of their conversation on New Years from Angela. Her absence at midnight was never questioned by Cam himself, and never spoken about any farther than “I missed you” and “there’s always next year”. That he was so unbothered about it made her almost feel worse.

Even though Tim never brought up their phone call, content to pretend it hadn’t happened during the days that followed, Lucy sensed a shift after the holidays were over. She got the feeling that she was approaching something like equity with him. Not on the job, maybe, but from an emotional standpoint. The changes in their interactions were muted, but positive. She still wouldn’t call them friends yet, but calling him had broken the ice a little bit. It seemed to her he finally realized they could show one another kindness without it being a betrayal to Isabel and without it complicating the job. She hoped it lasted, but was anxious as the days went on, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d been down this road before with him, making progress only to experience a setback that sent her to all the way out of his circle of trust. Fearing it would happen again wasn’t weakness on her part; it was self-preservation.

The Saturday after New Years, Lucy walked into the briefing room to find Angela seated at one of the tables towards the back of the room. Tim sat to her left. Jackson stood in the aisle at her right, and they were peering at something in her hands. As Lucy got closer, she realized it was a stack of photos that Angela was thumbing through. While Jackson looked engaged, Tim appeared disinterested, scrolling through the news on his phone and only looking up intermittently as she explained what was happening in each picture.

Lucy joined them just as Angela reached a photo of Lucy. There was a split second where she didn’t recognize the woman in the photo as herself. She was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, and the image was captured from behind and slightly to the right; the angle obscured most of her front, but the reflection of her face was still visible.

“Oh, I love this one.” Angela said, showing the picture to Jackson first. “She looks incredible, doesn’t she?” Jackson agreed, giving a thumb’s up in Lucy’s direction.

“Please,” Lucy said, trying to sound humble as she looked over the photo. “The dress and hair did most of the work.”

“Come on. Give yourself some credit, Chen.” Angela replied. Then, she put the picture front of Tim’s face, covering his phone so he had no choice but to look at it. “What do you think Bradford?” She looked at Lucy and cocked one eyebrow as she said with a smirk, “Doesn’t your Boot look just amazing in white?”

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. “Lopez!” Lucy stammered, shocked by her audacity even as Angela laughed at her.

Tim was unfazed; he only glanced at the picture once, then up at Lucy, and managed to keep his face pretty impassive throughout. It was only that she had been looking for and studying his micro expressions for months that Lucy even caught the way his jaw clenched. Once she saw that, it was impossible not to notice subtle lift of his throat as he swallowed, indicating that despite his efforts, maybe he wasn’t as unmoved by the photo as his disinterest would imply. “Looks nice, I guess,” was his response, but she knew better and bit back a flattered smile.

Angela, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny, slowly flipped to the next picture. This one was of Lucy and Cam, a moment she hadn’t realized had been caught on camera. Their bodies were pressed together in a close embrace. Lucy arms were wrapped around his waist. One of Cam’s hands pressed between her shoulder blades and the other rested at the nape of her neck. They were smiling softly at one another, eyes locked, as they stood on the terrace. It must have been taken either right before or right after their belated midnight kiss. Despite how rushed the moment felt at the time, it translated much more romantically in pictures.

Once more, Angela showed the photograph to Jackson first. “Oh, I love this one, too. Cam is seriously one of the most beautiful men I’ve seen up close.” She looked at Lucy with a wry smile. “I guess you knew that though, didn’t you, Boot?”

This one Tim was more interested in. “Let me see,” he said. Angela tilted it his way. He studied it longer than he’d bothered to the picture of Lucy, staring for a whole minute before dismissing it with a scoff. “He just looks like a person.”

Angela answered him haughtily. “Sure. And Shakespeare’s ‘just’ a poet.”

Luckily, Sergeant Grey entered the room before the two could trade more barbs, and all conversation came to a halt. Jackson and Lucy hurried to their seats at the front. She barely heard the content of the briefing, only perking up when Captain Andersen came into the room and announced that they’d be riding together for the day. It was an unexpected blessing to have a break from Tim that day; after Angela’s whole _thing_ with the pictures, she didn’t think she was prepared to sit in close quarters with him, torn between discussing it and pretending nothing had happened.

She was more confident in approaching Angela though, catching her before she went to the kit counter. “Can I ask what that was about?”

“What? With the pictures?” Angela asked, then shrugged. “Oh, you know. I’m thinking about taking up scrapbooking.”

“No, no. I mean _why?”_

At this, she grinned. “What? You didn’t really think I spend my free time with Boots on the regular, did you?” She chuckled. “If you couldn’t tell I had an ulterior motive the moment I agreed to help you, that’s on you. Maybe don’t pursue detective, yeah?”

“‘Ulterior motive’?” Lucy’s confusion morphed into concern, and she wondered, “Just what is it you're trying to do?”

“Nothing you can prove, but with any luck,” Angela winked at her, “you’ll thank me later.” Then she turned away, leaving Lucy to wonder what the hell she meant by _that._

No sooner had Angela walked away than Tim approached her. She thought he was walking by, but no. He’d been looking for her.

She instantly tried to apologize for what happened in the briefing room. “I’m sorry about that,” she began..

“About what? Lopez?” He scoffed a second time. “Ignore her. She’s just trying to get under your skin.”

Lucy muttered, “Just mine?”

“What was that, Boot?”

“Nothing.” She straightened and met his eye, pushing aside all her questions for now. “Did you need something?”

Turns out, he did. He didn’t come to talk about the pictures (although she knew he wouldn’t). He came to ask her to pack supplies for him and Talia as well. Since their boots were riding with Captain Andersen and Sergeant Grey, he and Bishop were teaming up for the day; Lucy guessed it was a point of contention between both of them that neither wanted to submit to loading up, a job typically reserved for rookies and officers of lower ranks. So, with a sigh, she went to the kit counter and asked for supplies enough for two shops. She was in the process of picking up all the gear (and feeling like a damn pack mule while doing it) when Captain Andersen walked up and frowned.

“What are you doing, Officer Chen?” she asked.

“Oh, um. Officer Bradford told me to set up his and Officer Bishop’s shop as well.”

Captain Andersen cocked one eyebrow at this answer. “Huh,” she said, then called over her shoulder a second later. “Bradford! Bishop!” The pair stepped out of the garage when beckoned, acknowledging the Captain as a unit, but Tim looked at Lucy with a frown. “Officer Chen is my Boot today. Is that clear?”

They both said yes, and Tim stepped forward to take some of their gear from Lucy’s hands. As he did, he whispered, “Tattletale.”

She shrugged off the juvenile insult, and shot back with a smirk, “Have a good day, sir.”

~

Lucy didn’t know what to make of Captain Andersen choosing to ride with her. The obvious choice had been Jackson, being both a legacy and eager-to-please. Nolan would’ve made sense as well, because what superior wouldn’t want to see firsthand how the oldest rookie was adapting? That she chose to ride with her made Lucy feel honored and anxious in equal measure. She wanted to impress the Captain, but also understood this was an opportunity to learn from one of the best in a one-on-one setting, a chance not typically afforded to rookies.

Her largest takeaway from the morning was not Captain Andersen’s strength, but her compassion. Their first call of the day was for a domestic dispute; a divorcing husband and wife having an argument, which quickly took a tragic turn. Lucy had been instructed to walk Mr. Ghorbani out of the house, but he broke away from her grasp, hurried up the stairs, and fatally shot himself despite the Captain’s attempts to talk him down. Entering the room to find his body… it was Lucy’s first experience with suicide while present on the scene. A part of her always held the belief that she was better equipped for psychiatric calls than the other rookies thanks to her background. Being raised by psychiatrists and a psych major herself, had instilled her with a belief in her abilities that unfortunately didn’t translate to results.

She took Mr. Ghorbani’s death pretty hard. Personally, even. Captain Andersen guessed as much, consoling Lucy when she pointed out she let the man get upstairs. She didn’t need to say she blamed herself for the Captain to pick up the inference.

“Yes, you did,” the Captain agreed. Then, much more gently, she said, “He’s not dead because of that.” No more was said, and Lucy still felt responsible to a degree, but it was a productive feeling. She was determined to work harder next time to prevent tragedy, and wouldn’t coast on any unearned confidence.

The second call of the day was, thankfully, less tragic, but still held its own measure of violence. Another dispute, this time between two neighbors arguing over -of all things- a parking spot. After the tragedy at the Ghorbani house, this felt trite by comparison. Something to be solved by simple, civil conversation, and certainly not worth calling cops over.

“It’s a parking spot,” she said, a little too glib to be considered professional. “Just get another one.”

Whether it was her words or just her tone, her statement was soon revealed to be the wrong thing to say, and only proved to further incite the anger of both men. The argument escalated, culminating in the man in the dress shirt lunging towards the one in the jersey. She restrained the first just as his neighbor swung his clenched fist in their direction. Lucy ducked, but still heard a crack. His punch had landed on someone. She looked up to see the Captain reeling back.

She’d felt like a failure after Mr. Ghorbani. Now she was _mortified_. Captain Andersen would return to the precinct with a black eye, and Lucy was sure to receive a well-deserved ribbing from, well, everyone for letting the Captain take a hit on her watch.

She ordered the man on the ground with his hands behind his back, but got no farther in the process of arresting him before Captain Andersen took over. The bruise on her cheek bloomed over the course of the drive back to the precinct, and Lucy cringed to imagine the teasing she’d earn from Tim and others.

“I shouldn’t have ducked,” she said as they arrived back at the station and went to process the neighbor who had punched.

Captain Andersen didn’t agree. “Relax. It was instinct. I should’ve ducked, too.” She chuckled and touched the shiner gingerly. “Guess I’m a little rusty. I didn’t always push a desk, you know. I was in the Marine Corps. Military police.”

Lucy was astonished. “I didn’t know that. I… well, I guess I thought you were from another department back east somewhere.”

Andersen shook her head. “Not quite. Did a year as Pentagon Police, though. Moved back home, joined the LAPD, and because of my experience I burned through the ranks pretty quickly. These other guys don’t see me as a cop; only as a boss.”

“Maybe you should tell people,” Lucy suggested as they walked toward booking.

At this, Andersen smirked. “You don’t tell people you’re a badass, Officer Chen. You show them.”

They processed their arrest, after which point Captain Andersen had to return to her office to get some stats the chief had requested. Lucy was more than willing to stay at the precinct while she got the paperwork completed; she had her own to do as well, and was just about to head to the bullpen to complete it when Jackson and Angela walked into booking with a man in handcuffs, trailed by what looked to be a lawyer.

She greeted Jackson, then nodded towards the lawyer and Angela, who were engaged in a heated discussion. “What’s going on there? Lopez looks furious.”

“It’s been a weird day,” Jackson replied with a sigh before he whispered conspiratorially, “he’s her soulmate.”

She gasped, but quickly covered it with her hand; a smart move on her part, since the surprise quickly dissolved into a laugh. They watched the pair argue, but all throughout, the sparks between the two were evident.

“Well,” Lucy remarked with a soft smile, thinking of the moment her timer went off, “I guess it could be worse.”

~

The rest of the day was as eventful of the first half, with Captain Andersen holding off a would-be-murderer on nerve alone. Before Lucy could really comprehend just how damn impressive the Captain was in that (and every) moment, Tim entered the reception area smelling like he’d rolled in pure manure. Everyone gagged, even her, although she tried to measure her reaction for the sake of his pride.

“Um,” she stammered, “did you get… skunked?” He skulked away without answering, but the question was more a formality than anything. There was no mistaking that smell.

~

Lucy and Captain Andersen didn’t make it back out for patrol. The paperwork necessary after processing the parolee who threatened an innocent bystander was extensive; the Captain was no ordinary officer, and therefore, ordinary reporting would not suffice. Extra information was required to make sure the entire case was above board, although Lucy wasn’t sure whether that was department policy, or just Captain Andersen’s preferred way of doing things. It was obvious she held herself to a very high standard, expecting nothing of the officers under her command that she would not first demand of herself.

It was close to six by the time Lucy finished her paperwork for the day, clocked out, and went to the locker room. As she unbuttoned her top, she glanced through her texts. A few things from Jackson had come through; mostly him freaking out (in a funny way, of course) about Angela matching with a public defender.Cam had texted inviting her to a movie with friends. She wasn’t really in the mood for going out, but she thought it would be nice to see him, so she accepted, agreeing to meet him at the theater in an hour.

After messaging him, she took an extra long shower; even though she hadn’t touched Tim after he came into the station smelling like a dumpster, she _swore_ she could detect the scent in her hair. She hadn’t packed a hair dryer, so she twisted her wet locks into to neat braids that hung over her shoulders, dressed, then stopped by Captain Andersen’s office.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked after knocking twice.

Captain Andersen waved her in. “Not at all.”

She stepped inside the office and walked shyly towards her desk. “I just wanted to say I really enjoyed riding patrol with you today. I learned a lot, but um…” well, there was no way around this next part, “I’m worried I let you down, and for that I’m sorry.”

The Captain’s expression was inscrutable as she asked, “And how do you think you let me down?” She could take her pick. Mr. Ghorbani? The punch? Those were the big ones, and even though there were some victories (a credit more to the Captain than herself), it felt like a day with more misses than wins. Before Lucy could specify, Andersen added, “Officer Chen, do you know why I chose to ride with you today?”

She shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

“Because you impress me.” The Captain understood the weight of such a declaration, and allowed Lucy the time to absorb it. “Don’t get me wrong. You have a lot to learn, but I’m proud to have you under my command.”

She left the office feeling proud and promptly came across Tim in plainclothes. He still stunk to high heaven, and she buried her nose in her arm as she greeted him.

He was not amused. “It’s not that bad.”

“I promise you, it is.” She pointed to his hand. “What you got there?”

He held up a can of tomato juice. “Bishop thinks she’s funny.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s playing a joke. She couldn’t possibly be motivated by anything else, like her gag reflex.” He laughed just a little, and mostly in spite of himself, if she knew him at all. “You gonna be okay?”

Tim looked at her. “I’m about to take a bath in marinara. I’m obviously living the dream.” He again chuckled, but it was notably joyless. “See you tomorrow, Boot?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow,” she answered, and watched him go without another word, not moving again until she was suddenly struck by a sort of impulsive idea.

Lucy pulled out her phone and dialed Cam’s number. “Hey,” she began when he answered, “I know I literally just said yes, but I’m not going to make it to the movie. Can I meet you after?”

Unlike other times she’d canceled, Cam didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “Why? What happened?”

“I think my TO needs my help.”

“So, you’re working late again?” he asked.

“No, not exactly,” she answered. “It’s… well, believe it or not, he got sprayed by a skunk today.”

There was a pause as she waited for Cam to answer. Finally, he said, “I think the man can give himself a bath, babe.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know that, Cam. I’m just going to take him some extra supplies and dinner, okay?” When he tried to retort, she cut him off, “He’s been having a really hard time lately. He lives alone. I’m just trying to do something nice for him.”

“Oh, because he’s so nice to you?” Although she’d withheld specifics like his name, Lucy had still been open with Cam about Tim’s occasionally harsh handling during the workday.

She frowned. “That’s not fair. He doesn’t have to be nice to me. He’s my TO.” Then, she added with disbelief, “I can’t believe you’re getting this upset about me wanting to help him.”

“Don’t twist my words, Lucy. You know that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because this is not the first time you’ve canceled because of your TO,” he said. His voice had moved beyond irritation and sounded truly upset. She didn’t like that she’d hurt his feelings, but she also didn’t think his complaint was entirely fair. “I know your job is important to you, and I support that. I’ve never once said anything when you’ve had to work late, but this isn’t something you _have_ to do. Your TO can take care of himself, can’t he?”

“Yes, he probably can,” she agreed, but still stood firm.

Another pause, and then Cam added wearily, “Your mind is made up, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Fine. I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow, if you find the time.” Then he hung up.

His last words were a low blow, but Lucy had to admit the jab was not unearned. He was right to point out she’d canceled several dates or hangouts with him in favor of helping Tim after work; this was just the first time she hadn’t insinuated it was mandatory according to her job. The others hadn’t been, either, but he didn’t know that. She thought about what Angela said, about how choosing someone else wasn’t just dating, but prioritizing. It didn’t take an aspiring detective to see that Lucy was not giving proper consideration to her relationship. The realization _should_ have given her pause. She should have felt badly, but she didn’t.

Lucy tried not to dwell on why that might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Remember when I said the next two chapters would be shorter? Lol...)  
> This chapter covers the events of The Rookie 1x10 "Flesh and Blood".  
> I'm gonna be honest, I feel a little bit BAD for Cam! He's trying. :( It's not his fault he's Not Tim.  
> Yes, Tim was absolutely FLOORED by the sight of Lucy in the white dress. No, that's not the last we've seen of it.  
> We'll have more Angela and Wesley in later chapters, there just wasn't enough time in this one.  
> Writing Captain Andersen always makes me sad. I miss that lady.  
> Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and leaving kudos! I don't always get to respond, but I read them all MULTIPLE times. Please review if you feel like it! Thanks!  
> Xx Suz


	15. "Tim Bradford: Proof every trash can has its lid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My yellow in this case is not so mellow  
> In fact I'm trying to say it's frightened like me  
> And all these emotions of mine keep holding me from  
> Giving my life to a rainbow like you  
> But I'm bold, I'm bold as love"  
> \- Jimi Hendrix, "Bold As Love"  
> 

Unlike the handful of other times she had come to Tim’s house, this time Lucy wasn’t relegated to waiting in the car, nor did she skulk around his front door, afraid of being caught. Grocery bags in hand, she stood on the front porch and rang the doorbell. He didn’t answer immediately, so she rang twice. When Tim finally answered, she noticed he’d changed a second time, but it did nothing to mask the skunk smell. She tried not to cringe when the scent hit her.

“What are you doing here, Lucy?” He asked, apparently already irritated. She wondered if there would ever come a time that he would greet her with anything like pleasantries. Then again, she’d probably be in a sour mood if she’d gotten skunked. Hell, all things considered, he was almost being nice.

“I’m here to help,” she said, and held up the bags. “I brought supplies.”

“Bishop gave me supplies.”

“No offense, but I don’t think one tiny can of tomato juice is gonna cover,” she gestured at him with an open palm, “all of that.” _Shit_ , she thought, realizing that that sounded like a comment on his physique, and clarified, “The smell, I mean. The smell.” She stammered over her own gaffe, then quickly asked, “Can I come in? I brought dinner.”

He hesitated, but acquiesced after a pause, opening the door wider to let her in. She passed him at close proximity, her nose wrinkling as the skunk smell increased thanks to their closeness. She didn’t comment on it, just asked where the kitchen was. He pointed, and she walked in that direction where she deposited the bags on the kitchen counter.

“What did you bring?”

She looked over her shoulder at him with a grin. “Just some things,” she replied, thenstarted to unpack the bags.

Tim stood to her left, just outside of the small, galley-style kitchen. “What sort of things?”

Lucy continued pulling out the contents while speaking. “So, I did some reading, and turns out tomato juice doesn’t actually get the skunk smell out.” She placed two bottles of peroxide, one box of baking soda, and a bottle of orange Ajax dish soap on the counter beside the stove. “Apparently, all tomato juice does is mask the smell. You stop smelling skunk because the smell of tomato overpowers it, but it doesn’t get rid of it. Something called ‘olafactory fatigue’, I think?” She glanced to her left, then right. “Where are your measuring cups?” Tim pointed to a cabinet above her. “Ah. There we go.” In one large glass measuring cup, she combined the peroxide, soap, and baking soda, then stirred it carefully with a fork and set it aside while she got the rest of the groceries out. A box of spaghetti, two cans of sauce, and a salad she’d assembled at the Whole Foods salad bar with all the fixings. “Your uniform will probably have to be thrown out,” she picked up the measuring cup again, giving it another stir as she turned around to face Tim, “but a shower with this stuff, if I did it right, should get the rest of it off your skin.” She placed the cup in his hands before looking up at him, and was embarrassed to realize he’d been watching her with an amused expression on his face.

“Lucy,” he started, “this is really-”

“-Yeah, no, I know,” she interrupted with a wave, then looked away shyly, “It’s a bit much.”

“No, it’s sweet,” he finished. “It’s really sweet.”

Secretly, she was touched by his words, but she tried to act cool about it. “Don’t read too much into it, Tim,” she replied blithely. “If I have to share a car with you, I refuse to let you stink. I assure you, my motives are entirely selfish.” She pointed toward the cup. “So I guess you should go shower with stuff.”

“I’ve already showered.”

“Yeah… I’m gonna need to try one more time. I’ll get dinner started.” Then, she added with a grin, “Hope your adventures with tomato juice haven’t put you off spaghetti.”

He glared at her. “You think you’re real funny, don’t you?”

“Actually, I think I’m hilarious.”

He didn’t disagree, just smirked and backed out of the kitchen, measuring cup of her mystery mix in hand. There was a few minutes of silence before Lucy could hear the sound of the shower being turned on. She turned back toward the oven and only then realized she hadn’t asked where he kept pots, pans, and bowls, which meant that she’d have to do a little investigating.

Lucy located the pots soon enough and put two saucepans on the counter. In one, she put six cups of water and a little salt. In the smaller of the two, she dumped two jars of marinara. While waiting for the water to boil, she seasoned the sauce and got it to her liking before setting the mix to a low simmer and placing the lid over the pan. By then, the water had begun to boil, and she broke two handfuls of spaghetti in half before placing them in the pot and setting a timer for eleven minutes.

The water was still running, so either Tim was lingering in the shower, or the scrub she’d given him proved difficult to use. Half of her wanted to check on him, but she decided against it. If she were to barge into his bathroom and ask if he was okay… well, she wouldn’t even entertain the notion. If he was having issues, she had to trust he’d figure them out.

Left on her own while she waited for dinner to finish, Lucy took the opportunity to look around. She wasn’t above exploring the space a little. This was her first time in his house. She hadn’t been invited as much as she barged in, but he also hadn’t refused her entry, so she called it a success. She’d so far only caught a glimpse of it as he directed her from the front door to the kitchen. It was a cute little house he kept, if she judged it solely on its living room and kitchen. Clean, uncharacteristically warm, and dare she say cozy. The front door faced the street. She could see street lights coming on through the large bay window from between parted sheer curtains. From the driveway, she’d seen this window before. She’d never imagined on the other side would be the sweetest little window seat, a long narrow bench of solid white wood accented by olive green pillows. She tried not to read too much into the color of the pillows. Tim didn’t know olive green was her favorite, and it was far more likely that Isabel had chosen the cushions, just like she’d picked the house. Still, Lucy ran a finger over them; whoever heard of corduroy pillows before, she thought, but they weren’t the ugliest things she’d ever seen. Thanks to the large buttons in the center and thick white stitching, they were actually sort of precious in a retro way.

The rest of the living room was sunken. Except for a path about three feet wide that led from the front door to the kitchen, the space was accessed by a small flight of three steps and occupied by an espresso-colored sectional that faced the television. The TV was flanked by built-in bookshelves. She perused the contents, finding a collection of Blu-Rays that was mostly action movies, with the odd rom-com found here or there. A handful of Xbox games seemed similar to the movies. Where discs weren’t stored, a few knick-knacks had been placed. A football trophy from high school. A medal in a shadowbox. Some pictures from Tim’s time overseas. She paid special attention to those, hardly recognize the stern boy in fatigues. He couldn’t have been more than twenty in half of these photos, but she found glimpses of the person she knew now in the hard set of his mouth, the blue of his eyes. Her hand rose of its own accord to trace the lines of his face in his official portrait, but she refrained, deciding now was a good time to stop her snooping and stir the noodles before they stuck.

After she’d stirred the spaghetti and the sauce for good measure, she took a look at the dining room. It was to the left of the kitchen; probably not large enough for entertaining, but just enough space for a young family. A small, rectangular, walnut-colored table stood in the center of the room with seating for four. A large round mirror gave the illusion of the room being bigger, but otherwise the space was rather bare. Sparse and spartan, especially when compared to the cozy, lived-in den. It almost gave the impression that the house was half-finished. Lucy couldn’t imagine Tim made use of the dining room very often on his own. Perhaps that was why not much had been done for it. If that was the case, she wondered what the other rooms might look like.

Her curiosity led her down the hallway to the left of the dining room, but even then, only barely. Just far enough to count out four doors. Two to the right, two to the left. By her guess, one of the rooms would be the master bedroom and probably had an ensuite bathroom. Again, this wing appeared undecorated, the exception being a large framed picture that caught her eye at once.

Tim was in the photo, but that wasn’t what captured her attention. It was the presence of Isabel in the photograph that made her freeze. Out of all the other pictures she’d seen throughout the house, this was the only one that showed her. A shame, that, because the Isabel she saw in the photo was lovely and quite photogenic. Happy and healthy, her smile bright and true. Honey-blonde hair fell about her face in a cascade of delicate ringlets, eyes not so scared and wide as Lucy so often saw them, but doll-like and hopeful as she looked back at her husband.

Tim wore his hair longer in the picture than he kept it now. Although it would’ve been taken several years after his Army photos, he looked younger on his wedding day than he had in those. Like Isabel, he was smiling as he held her right hand in his left. The picture had been taken in the middle of dancing. His arm was up, her fingers in his grasp, like he’d been in the middle of turning her when the moment was captured. Perhaps he hadn’t worn a jacket on his wedding day; perhaps he’d discarded it while dancing. Either way, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up, revealing his forearms. On his left wrist, Lucy could see his timer clearly.

Her stomach lurched slightly at the sight. She’d known that he’d had the timer long before they met, and shortly after meeting him discovered that he’d gotten married in spite of his countdown, but there was something about seeing it so plainly in a photo from his wedding day… frankly, it made her feel a little ill. It threw into sharp relief just how differently they regarded timers before they met. Had he ever said why he’d gotten one? She tried to remember, but couldn’t. It was significant enough that, if he’d said anything, she was certain she’dhave kept it in mind. No, she recalled, the most she’d gotten from him was an admission that something had happened that he couldn’t explain. No reason why, not even an attempt at explaining; just that, followed by him confiding he’d been more open to the idea of soulmates before he met the woman who became his wife. He was so guarded in the beginning that she was happy for any shred of personal history that he deigned to share, placated by having the truth, even if it came gradually. Did she feel that way now? Was that still enough?

No, Lucy realized. No, it wasn’t enough, and the thought was discomfiting. Soulmate or not, she had a boyfriend now. She should have been desperate to want _less_ from Tim, not more. Yet, there she was. Wanting. Eager to help the second he might need it. Cooking dinner in his kitchen, walking through the house his wife had chosen, and staring at their pictures like some voyeuristic grief vulture. Meanwhile, her boyfriend was across the city, and their last conversation had ended with an argument. She’d canceled on him to give unasked-for assistance to her soulmate. It was not the first time she’d done that; at this rate, it probably wouldn’t be the last, and he still didn’t know that her training officer and soulmate were one and the same. Her guilt over the fib joined with her discomfort, and with a worry whose source she had not yet pinpointed. She suddenly felt gross and the queasiness increased with a fury.

The oven timer beeped then, effectively breaking Lucy out of her thoughts with a start. Although she could push the memories and questions aside for now, the uneasy sensations remained; she remembered enough from her psych courses to discern that the feeling was probably psychosomatic and not actual illness. Her stomach would ache until whatever nagged her conscience was resolved, but she managed to ignore it as she hurried back to the kitchen. It was foolish of her to lose track of time with water boiling, she admonished herself with every step. Luckily, none had boiled over and the noodles hadn’t stuck together. She drained the water, saving just enough to help the sauce bind when she combined them into one pot. It took a couple guesses, but she found clean plates, tupperware, and utensils and made him a plate before putting the leftover pasta and salad in separate containers for future dinners.

Lucy was at the sink washing the dishes she’d used to cook when Tim returned. Her concoction had worked; the skunk smell was completely gone. She caught the scent of his soap as he joined her, the fragrance subtle but pleasant. After his shower, he’d changed into a clean black t shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. It was the most casual she’d even seen him, and without thinking, her mind compared the image from his wedding against the man who stood beside her. She knew which one she preferred. There was no denying he cleaned up well, but if she had to choose, she liked this look on him best.

“You cooked. I can wash up,” he said, trying and failing to coax her away from the sink.

Lucy shrugged him off. “It’s okay. I’m almost done.”

He tried one more time, but she would not be moved. Rather than continue trying to convince her, he nodded towards the single plate of food on the counter. “Did you eat already?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

She pretended to pay particular attention to a stubborn spot of marinara in the sauce pan. “No. Not feeling too great tonight.” Lucy could feel the second he began to analyze her reply, studying her expression, posture, and general demeanor.“I saw the picture,” she whispered after she’d finished the dishes and washed her hands.

“What picture?” he asked as he handed her a towel.

Well, all of them, really, but, “From your wedding,” was her reply.

He didn’t seem angry at her snooping, which had been her primary concern. He just nodded. “If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve taken it down.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, Lucy, I don’t love hurting your feelings. Well,” he amended, “off the job, of course.”

She tried to appreciate his weak attempt at injecting humor, but didn’t laugh. Instead, she asked, “Did you know you can see your timer in it?”

His smile faded. “Lucy-”

“You know, you never told me why you got one.”

“Yes, I have.”

Her mouth lifted in a sad smile. “No, you haven’t. I’d remember it if you had. I know just about everyone else, but not that.”

“You really want to know?”

She nodded.

“Okay,” he said, sighing before he spoke again. “It was after I joined up. I was only eighteen. Didn’t have many friends. No family either. Not really. Mom died when I was a kid, and my father… let’s just say I didn’t have anyone. My recruiting officer recommended I get a timer. He said having something to look forward to would help during deployments. Don’t think he expected the damn thing to stay blank until a month before I got discharged. I know I sure didn’t,” he chuckled, but again, she did not laugh.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Lucy took a step back, putting distance between them as she tried to keep her thoughts from spiraling. Her gaze was on the floor as she absorbed his story, trying to connect it to what he’d told her months ago _._ All the pieces were in place; the picture was complete, and the difference in their histories surrounding their timers was as stark as day and night. “It’s not every day you find out you were a coping mechanism.”

He looked pained by her reply. “You make it sound like I used you.”

“Didn’t you? You got it to get you through deployments, and it served its purpose, right?”

Tim sighed, but didn’t deny it. Instead, he said to her, “Wait right here.” Then he stalked off towards his bedroom without another word and was absent for a few minutes. When he returned, he was holding a 4x6 inch piece of paper; a picture that he placed it into Lucy’s hands.

She looked at it closely, recognizing it at once as being from Tim’s time in the military. Not a hard deduction to make, thanks to the presence of fatigues on just about everyone in the photo, but she could also tell due to his age in it. He would have been younger here. Not so young as his uniformed portrait, but younger than his wedding photo. Tim was the focal point of the photograph, surrounded by a group of six or seven other service members. It was a candid, a moment captured when the men were in the middle of some sort of celebration. The focus of the excitement appeared connected to Tim, as quite a few of the men in the picture could be seen patting his back or shoulders. He was the only one seated on what looked to be his bunk, and he was grinning widely. Not smirking, not smiling. Grinning with obvious joy, not at the camera, but at his buddies. That smile only appeared in one other picture in the whole house; his wedding photo.

“It’s from my last deployment,” he said after she’d looked it over for a good, long while. “We didn’t get much downtime. Had to take it in shifts. I was in my bunk at the end of the day. I think I was looking at a magazine or something… I can’t remember exactly. All I know is I reached up to scratch my head and as I brought my hand down, I noticed that my blank timer had numbers on it.”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile hearing the story. “What did you do when you saw it?”

He laughed, going a little pink in embarrassment as he replied, “I yelled ‘holy fucking shit’ and just about gave everyone in my tent a heart attack.” She laughed, too, and he continued a moment later. “They were all really happy that I was finally counting down. I got a lot of grief for having a blank timer, but they all went out of their damn minds when the numbers finally showed up.”

“And that’s what this picture is?” she asked, realizing. “This is the night your timer started counting down.”

He nodded and tapped the edge of the paper with one finger. “That is the moment,” he paused to take a deep, fortifying breath,” that I knew you were coming. You weren’t this faceless ‘maybe’ anymore. You were somewhere out there. A real, living person with a name and a past and a future, and you were linked to me, and me to you. It made me feel less alone.

“I know I told you I didn’t believe in soulmates,” he continued, hearkening back to their first ever conversation. God, it felt like a lifetime ago. “I didn’t, until I met you. But I look at my timer now,” Tim looked at his wrist, the acrylic strip now showing only zeroes, “and I realize that a part of you has been there for me longer than anyone else, long before I ever even knew you. If that’s not a soulmate, what is?”

Lucy had nothing to say to that; not to his story, nor to his statement about soulmates. He had not asked for a reply from her, and she feared anything she said would spoil the sweet moment that had settled over them. So, she continued to gaze at the picture, going over every detail of Tim’s jubilant expression and committing as many details as she could to memory.

Eventually, he spoke again.

“Turn it over,” he said.

She did as he requested. On the back, someone had written in black ink.

_Tim Bradford: Proof every trash can has its lid._

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Wow. Nice friends you have.” Lucy looked at him, meeting his eyes. “Am I the trash can in this scenario, or are you?” He chuckled, and she turned it back to the picture. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to see that part once I frame this.”

“Uh, excuse you? You’re not keeping that picture.” He reached for it, but she leaned away from his hands.

“Uh, excuse _you_?” she retorted. “I’m absolutely keeping this. It’s amazing.” Lucy held it behind her back with one hand, and pushed Tim away with the other, her palm pressing against his chest.

“Pfft. I know it’s amazing. Why else would I want to keep it?”

He continued to wrestle her for the photo, darting and maneuvering, but never quite managing to get it back. Soon, Lucy was prompted to joke, “How dare you! This is no way to treat your trash can!”

He got it free from behind her back just a moment later and held it aloft like a trophy.

“No fair,” she groused and tried twice to jump for it, but he was too damn tall. Fully extended, his arm cleared her by two feet.

“Should I get you a step-stool?” he teased.

When she saw how hopping amused him (he all but laughed in her face), she changed her tactic and employed a trick she’d come up with in high school after one too many boys in choir class thought stealing her folder and holding it up high counted as flirting. It sort of did to a sophomore, and apparently to Tim Bradford as well. Not only was her petite height a disadvantage, but her opponent was a highly trained officer, well-versed in fighting and defending. He would be hard to surprise, so she’d have to move fast.

She pretended to hop three more times to throw him off his rhythm. Then, Lucy wrapped her arms around his bicep, interlaced her fingers, and made her body go slack.

Her trick worked a little _too_ well, resulting in not just bringing Tim’s arm down to her level, but almost making them both go tumbling onto the floor. Fortunately, he caught her before that happened. Caught her, and kept her there long after she’d gotten her legs beneath her again. For the moment, the picture was forgotten.

It was so typical, Lucy thought to herself. So predictable, and so very _them_ that their first embrace was accidental. Accidental, but she had to concede it was not unpleasant to be standing in the circle of his arms. He was muscular and strong, but not bulky. He kept in shape less for looks than function. Okay, she thought with a sly glance at his well-formed shoulders, maybe it was a little for looks. They’d been falling in opposite directions, but in the moments following, Tim had moved towards Lucy. Now there was very little space between them. They were close enough that his chest held firm against hers, causing the swell of her breasts to press against her blouse. Close enough that she could see every single one of his eyelashes and the growing stubble of his five o’clock shadow. Close enough to touch or more, she thought, in any other life but this.

But this was not any other life. There was no alternate timeline where he waited for her. There was no version of their past where Tim had not chosen to marry Isabel, despite the promise of Lucy on his arm. In the here and now, his wedding picture was on the wall, and her boyfriend was upset with her.

Lucy pulled away first.

“I should go,” she said, and that was enough to shake them both free of the spell. “Cam’s mad at me. I need to apologize.” She smartly avoided his gaze and brushed past him with as little contact as possible. “You’ll be okay, right? Of course you will. You’re you.” She was rambling now, but it wasn’t something she could stop once she got going. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she finished, and did not wait for a reply before seeing herself out of the house.

Only in the safe confines of her car did Lucy allow herself a single exclamation of disbelief, spoken with her forehead against the steering wheel as she desperately tried to calm her galloping heart. Into the dead air, she whispered words stolen from Tim himself.

“Holy fucking shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in time for Valentine's Day, some well-deserved fluff (and maybe a little bit of UST??). This chapter occurs in-between episode 10 and episode 11 of The Rookie season 1. 
> 
> I loooooooved writing something sweet and a little flirty for these two. A few more things:  
> \- I originally planned to include "Redwood" in the second half of the chapter, but the part at Tim's house took up a lot more space than I thought it would. Once I saw how fluffy it was, I felt bad bringing it down with the heavier events of "Redwood", so I split it up. That'll be what goes up next week!  
> \- "Every trash can has its lid" is a spin on Leslie Jordan's "I guess every garbage can has its lid".  
> \- Tomato juice really doesn't work for getting out skunk smell! I was shocked when I found that out while researching. Is tomato juice for skunk smell the longest running lie in Hollywood? :P
> 
> Thank you for reading/reviewing/leaving kudos. You guys are the best!


	16. Now or Not At All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t want us to burn out, I  
> Didn’t come here to hurt you, now I can’t stop.”  
> \- “Already Gone”, Kelly Clarkson  
> ~  
> 

_Holy fucking shit._

_Holy. Fucking.Shit._

_It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal, but… holy fucking shit._

The words played on repeat in Lucy's mind as Tim’s house disappeared in her rearview mirror. She drove away carefully, but without aim, less because she had a destination in mind than because she wanted -and needed- to put distance between them. Only when she crossed Wilshire Boulevard did she feel like she had enough space to breathe. To assess. With her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, she took mental stock of the last few minutes of her visit. He’d told her the story of how he’d gotten his timer. There was a split-second where she almost felt hurt by the truth behind why he’d gotten one without believing in soulmates, but she was glad she refrained from voicing it. Hearing about the night the numbers showed for him more than made up for the slight wounding to her ego. She would have never guessed that he’d been happy when the countdown started. Excited, even, and then he’d looked down at his timer as he revealed that he’d realized she’d always been with him, in some form or fashion, ever since the countdown began. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the unguarded tenderness in his voice and demeanor as he whispered, "If that’s not a soulmate, what is?” Holding her was accidental. It was only for a moment, but that moment was enough. Enough to leave her overwhelmed after the slightest touch had made every nerve-ending in her body hum. Enough to spark her imagination, and even now her mind betrayed her, errantly imagining more scenarios where he might embrace her again without much consideration for their current reality.

To the best of her ability, Lucy interrupted that train of thought. He was married; she had a boyfriend. He was her training officer; she was his rookie. She replaced the loop of expletives with those thoughts, repeating them to herself mantra-like. She pictured Cam, calling to mind his face after some trying, and focused on all the things that she liked about him. There was no denying they got along well, and he was kind, thoughtful, and attractive.Courteous, comfortable, maybe a little safe, but she rationalized that being safe was not an undesirable quality; she was a police officer, after all. If it was thrills she was after, her job provided plenty. The only crack in the foundation of their relationship was her own deception.

The time spent at Tim’s house had shaken her, but Lucy was determined more than ever to course-correct. No longer aimless, she drove towards Cam’s apartment. He was still at the movies when she arrived, and she had no clue when he’d return. To pass the time (as well as to plan how she’d broach the subject at long last), she called Nolan.

“Hey, it’s Lucy,” she said when he answered. “Do you have a moment to help me talk through a problem?” He did. With a deep breath, she began to go over the events of the evening. “So, something happened. I was supposed to meet Cam tonight. Go see a movie with him and a few of his friends, but I didn’t. I went to Tim’s. I know, I know. What the hell am I thinking, right?” She pressed one hand to her forehead. “I guess I wanted to help him. I felt really bad after the day he had, so I brought him some things to help with the skunk smell and then I made him dinner while he showered. Is that too much? I mean, probably. Whatever. That’s not the point.

“Anyway, he finally told me why he got his timer. Yes, I said ‘finally’. I don’t know how I let him go this long without saying. I’m glad he told me. I don’t _love_ the fact that he got it because some recruiter suggested it, but then he told me about the night his timer started counting down, and _oh my God_ , Nolan. It was kind of romantic. Or, at least I think it was. My view of romance is probably a little messed up since the only boyfriend I’ve had that’s even _tried_ to be romantic is Cam.

“Damn it. Cam.” She leaned against the steering wheel, her cheek pressing against the well-worn leather as she groaned. “I still haven’t told him, but I’m going to. I’m outside his apartment right now because I know I have to. If I want a future with him, I can’t keep this lie inside, right? I guess it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t want a future with him, but I do. At least, I think I do. Don’t I?” At the moment, she couldn’t tell for certain, unable to decipher whether her wishes for the future were genuine or motivated by what she felt she _ought_ to do. “I should want that, shouldn’t I? I mean, you’ve met him. He’s great. Seriously, so great. Amazing. Handsome. Smart… okay, don’t say it. I know I just described most dogs and half the pantheon of Disney princes.” Another groan. “This would be easier if I loved him. Not that I don’t, I just… I don’t _yet_.” She swallowed hard before continuing, something like hysteria bubbling inside her. “But, that’s normal, right? It’s only been a few months. And I’m not saying I won’t ever… but what if don’t? What if I never…” She paused, waiting only a second for Nolan to speak before resolving on her own. “Right. No, no you’re right.” The glare of headlights to her left caught Lucy’s eye. She recognized Cam’s Jeep as it pulled into the parking lot. “Okay. I’m going to do it. I’m going to talk to him. He’s always so understanding, so hopefully… well, what’s the worst that could happen?” Then she pasted a smile on her face, feigning a confidence she didn’t feel as she said, “Thanks, Nolan. Good talk.”

“I literally did not say anything,” she heard him reply as she ended the call.

Cam spotted her immediately. She’d figured he would. He approached her car, opened the door for her, and helped her out before inviting her into his apartment. The entire way up the stairs, he kept his hand on the small of her back. So what that his touch did not make her body sing with sensations? It was familiar and soothing, and she could do worse than that, couldn’t she? An apology for their earlier argument fell from his lips the second the door closed behind them, followed quickly by a kiss that he soon tried to deepen. Lucy reciprocated his affection, but only for a moment, and before long placed her hands on his chest as she leaned away to better look into his eyes.

“Cam,” she began gently, “We need to talk.”

A tight smile crossed his mouth at her words. Beneath her palms, his heart thudded an anxious rhythm. “That’s never a good sign.”

“It’s not what you think,” she said, hoping her reassurance would soften the blows that followed, “but I haven’t been as honest with you as I should have been.”

“What’s going on?”

She told him everything. Tim, her married soulmate, was her training officer. Yes, she said when he asked, the same training officer she occasionally helped after-hours, sometimes late into the night. She spared him most details (including and especially the ones from that evening), choosing instead to fill the gaps with profuse, earnest apologies. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. It hadn’t been her aim to lie for so long. The omission on her part wasn’t mean-spirited; she had only wanted to protect their new relationship, and feared that knowing how closely she worked with her soulmate would upend that in some way, shape, or form.

The entire confession took less than two minutes. Throughout, Cam tried to be gracious. She saw him struggle to remain in control, to keep his tears back, but there was no hiding them once they welled and caught on the edges of his long, black eyelashes.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, moved to remorse by his tears. “I was terrified of ruining things.”

He didn’t raise his voice once she’d said her piece, but his tone lacked all its usual warmth when he did finally get a chance to speak. He did not break up with her outright, which had, during the course of confessing, become her fear. Instead, Cam asked for time and space to process. He needed to think about what this might mean for their relationship, and wanted her to give him a while to think before reaching out again. She tried to argue against it, but he was adamant. She had no choice but to agree.

Lucy excused herself soon after. He did not say goodbye. It wasn’t a breakup, per se, but nonetheless left little ability for her to hope for the best.

~

The days that followed were tough for Lucy. Cam had not specified how long “a while” was, and soon three weeks passed without sight nor sound from him. After the first week, she had texted him to see if he was okay; he read the message, but did not reply. He continued to follow her on Instagram, but she noticed an unusual lack of activity from his account. Lucy pressured Jackson to do a little recon on her behalf, but all he would say was Cam needed more time, and reminded her to leave him alone.

Her friends were somewhat supportive, but not totally on her side. Jackson was upset that she’d made such a mess of things. He wasn’t giving her the silent treatment, but she could tell he held a bit of a grudge against her. Nolan was more sympathetic, but not above a little passive gloating in the way that only a dad knew how when he learned about their fight and subsequent estrangement. Lucy did not try to improve her standing in the eyes of either man. They had warned her the lie was costly, and she was paying the price now. She missed Cam. Even if she did not love him ( _yet_ , she chided herself, _I always forget to add the yet_ ) she enjoyed his company. Its absence caused an ache she could not easily fill.

Strangely, as they drifted apart, Lucy and Tim grew closer, despite the latter not knowing all that had transpired with her and Cam. No, they weren’t palling around or going out for drinks, but conversation came easier for them. Neither brought up the night at his house,and especially not their awkward embrace in his kitchen, but she was sure that had been the catalyst for this change and there was plenty of other excitement around the station to discuss. The news about Angela and her soulmate, a handsome attorney named Wesley, became a particular point of interest for them.

“Lopez and a public defender,” Tim had said the morning Lucy first broached the subject. “I can’t think of anyone worse to match with.”

She smirked at him pointedly. “Hmmm, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few things.”

He shot her a glare, but there was a smile to it. “I am _not_ worse than some lawyer.”

It was a pleasant turn of events, and Lucy had had so few of those lately that she clung to it like a lifeline. As if her boyfriend troubles were not enough, Los Angeles experienced a false spring in the last week of January, with the temperature shooting up into the 80s out of nowhere. Naturally, that was the day Lucy’s air conditioning decided to go on a permanent strike. She knew she’d have to get that fixed sooner rather than later. AC was a necessity in California, and the false spring was a warning that hotter weather was on its way.

Her fortunes began to take a turn for the better when news came of the Vice President’s visit to Los Angeles. To put it nicely, Lucy didn’t care for the guy, but being called in on her day off and making time and a half pay would cover her air conditioning’s repair with a little to spare. It was the first day in almost a month that she came into work feeling cheerful. 

Her good mood was quickly dashed by a comment from Tim as they stood in the kit line.

“Air conditioning makes you soft,” he said, after she’d revealed her plans for her overtime pay. “You gotta get comfortable with being uncomfortable. That’s the job.”

She quickly retorted, “Believe me, sir. I know something about being uncomfortable on the job.” Her response wasn’t loud or even that sarcastic, but Jackson and Angela were standing close enough that they both “ooohed” like kids on a playground upon hearing her response. Tim shot a “shut up” in their direction and sneered at Lucy, but otherwise said nothing else on the subject, not even when they got on the road.

The teams were spread out across the city to assure the safety of “veep”. Jackson and Angela received an assignment that took them to an apartment building, and Nolan and Talia were held back for a special assignment. Lucy, Tim, and a small team were sent to oversee the packing up of homeless communities. They started with Vine, cordoning off the section between Melrose and Franklin. Tim was the senior officer on scene, so he gave the orders. Lucy, being the rookie, dealt with the people directly.

She had just finished rousing a man sleeping on the sidewalk when a fight broke out between two women. Lucy hadn’t heard what caused the argument, but fists were flying, and she moved quickly to stop them. Soon, she was knocked back, but managed to return to her feet after overpowering the woman who had dragged her down. Just as she finished handcuffing her, Tim spoke, his voice low and serious.

“Lucy.”

It was her name on his lips that made her freeze. He rarely called her by her first name on shift. Even in those rare cases, he never once did so in front of other officers, acknowledging her only as Chen or Boot. With one hand still holding the homeless woman in place, she looked at Tim. His eyes were wide, stare honed on her midsection as he ordered in that same somber way, “Don’t move.”

She looked down.

There was a split-second where she didn’t see it. Then, she was sure she was imagining it. She couldn’t feel it, so how could it be real? But it was. Her vision swam before her eyes at the sight of a needle protruding from her stomach. It was dirty, the chamber brown and dingy. The needle had clearly been used before, and it had lodged into her abdomen sometime during the scuffle.

“Lucy. Lucy?”

Tim had said her name again. Or was he still saying it? Time seemed to telescope. His voice sounded distant, like it came from far above her.

“I didn’t see it,” she whispered. It sounded like an apology.

“It’s okay,” he replied, “but I’m going to need to pull the needle out. Stay still.” He didn’t wait for her acknowledgment before donning gloves and dropping to his knees. He looked closely at the entrance point before gently grasping the needle and pulling. It slid easily out of her skin; she perceived a pinch of discomfort as it was drawn out. Strange that she couldn’t feel it go in, but felt pain as it left. Lucy watched as he examined the needle’s tip, still crouched on the ground. It took her a second to realize he was looking for signs that it had broken skin, and his face fell when he noticed a bead of blood on the edge. “Shit,” he muttered and looked up at her, his eyes briefly appeared glassy before he masked it, willing away all semblance of emotion. His concern from just moments before had evaporated, pushed away solely by effort. When he spoke next, he was all cop, cold and professional. “What’s the procedure when an officer is exposed on duty?”

She didn’t remember at first.

“Focus,” he said when her silence stretched on long enough to worry him. “What do we need to do now?”

Another second or two passed while she tried to recall protocol. “Collect the evidence,” she soon recited, her voice mechanical. "Bring the officer and item to the nearest hospital to test for infections and…” she hesitated over the next word, “diseases… that may have been transmitted.”

“And the nearest hospital is?”

“Shaw Memorial.”

Tim nodded. He placed the needle into a small, rectangular storage container, discarded the gloves, then turned and barked an order at another officer on the scene. She didn’t hear what order had been issued, but it must have been a hand-off. “Let’s go,” he said after, and guided her towards the patrol car, one hand on her shoulder the entire way.

~

Upon arriving at the ER, Lucy checked in at the front desk. At first, the nurse running reception tried to give her a clipboard and have her take a seat with other patients, but Tim intervened. Whether the protocol he cited was authentic or not, his stern persuasion worked, and she was seen to a room immediately. After making sure she was settled, Tim excused himself to call the sergeant.

“Gonna let the brass know about our whereabouts,” he said as he turned to go.

“Will that take us off the clock?” she asked.

“Well, we aren’t working, so…”

“Yeah. Yeah, no. You’re right.” Lucy nodded her understanding, then sat on the edge of the bed. So much for her air conditioning.

A moment passed where Tim lingered, drumming his thumb on the doorknob. Eventually, he said, “I’ll be right back,” and left.

A minute after he’d stepped away, the doctor entered. At her request, Lucy removed her uniform top, leaving only her white t-shirt on, which was easily lifted to examine the puncture wound. The doctor’s expression did not give away much, but she informed Lucy she would be ordering an array of tests to ascertain what she may have been exposed to.

Tim returned just as the phlebotomist entered the room for blood draws. He was by her side the entire time, and that was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because she was terrified, and having him to keep her company brought her a great deal of comfort. A curse, because as the nurse inserted the needle to draw the first of four vials, she could feel anxiety rolling off him in waves.

After the phlebotomist carted the labeled vials off for testing, Lucy sat up and rolled down her sleeve. She cast a cautious glance Tim’s way. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“You’re asking me?”

“I guess I am.”

“Not the way I thought the day would go,” he replied. He followed it with, “How are you feeling?”

Not great, but she tried to fake it. “Gotta get comfortable with being uncomfortable, right?”

He sighed. “You don’t have to do that with me.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend.”

Her eyes welled with tears in an instant. “I’m really scared,” she admitted, and those three words opened the floodgate. The tears ran down her cheeks before she could stop them. She lowered her head as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, planting her feet firmly on the floor as she leaned forward into her hands. 

She heard rather than saw him close the gap between them. A moment later, she felt the warmth from his skin as his hands came to rest on her shoulders, an uncharacteristic but appreciated attempt to console her.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucy,” he whispered.

She looked up at him through watery lashes. “What if it isn’t?”

“If it isn’t, then…” he sighed, but his hands stayed on her shoulders as he decided, “if it isn’t, we’ll deal with it. No matter what. Okay?”

Lucy nodded. “Okay."

They stayed like that for only a moment or two longer. Soon, Tim encouraged her to stand and dress so they could get back to work.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, “but after I called Sergeant Grey, I reached out to a buddy of mine. He’s done work on my truck before. Said he can take care of your AC for cheap. Maybe the lost OT won’t mean you can’t get it fixed.”

Lucy was somewhat shocked by the gesture, a reaction she knew showed on her face. “You did that for me?”

“You seem surprised.”

At that, she smirked. “Not surprised, just… yeah, okay. Surprised works.”

Tim’s plan to rejoin the team was made in good faith, but their efforts were thwarted when, after Lucy had washed her face, she came across a mourning woman in the bathroom. She thought nothing of it at first until she caught a glimpse of a bottle of bleach in the stall. For the moment, fears over her own health faded into the background as she hurried down the hall after the woman, catching her just as she held a needle to a man’s neck. It was her brother, the woman said. He was in a coma, and she was intent on killing him rather than allow machines to keep him alive artificially.

She pointed her taser in the woman’s direction and radioed Tim for help. He was there in seconds. Seeing Lucy’s taser and the needle being held to the man’s vein, Tim drew his gun before shouting out the door to the nearby nurses, warning them to prepare for a gunshot victim. Lucy was determined to avoid that outcome, and so did her best to talk the woman down. Her hand was forced when the needle penetrated the man’s skin, and she fired her taser. The woman went down, landing on the tile in convulsions, and nurses came in to tend to her.

It was Lucy who withdrew the needle from the side of the patient’s neck. A tiny drop of blood pooled on the point, but the plunger had not been depressed, a fact she confirmed to Tim when he asked.

He smiled slyly in her direction as he returned his gun to its holster. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute.”

The sister came to a few minutes later. Tim was the one to place her under arrest for attempted murder. It pained Lucy to see her in cuffs, but they had no choice; the law was the law. Lucy followed Tim and the woman out to the patrol car, and asked, “Should I come with?” after he’d placed the woman in the back.

“No, I’ll get her processed. You stay here and wait for your results,” he replied. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he emphasized, his gaze narrowing at her as he spoke. “I don’t want to hear from West or, God forbid, _Nolan_ that you’re in the ICU or something.”

She bit back a smile at his thinly-veiled worrying. “If I need anyone, you’ll be the first one I call,” she promised, and he was satisfied.

~

It was another hour before her results came in. During that time, Jackson arrived, having accompanied a gunshot victim to the ER. Although they’d spent very little time together since Cam had asked for space, he still offered to wait with her. Lucy was glad for his presence, but after several minutes of anxiety-riddled silence, had to ask, “Are you angry with me?”

He shook his head. “Not anymore.”

That was a relief, but only partially. “Is Cam?”

A pause followed where Jackson looked at her, his expression both understanding and sad. “He’s still hurt. You kind of broke his heart.”

She knew that, but hearing it said aloud affected her more than she thought it would. “I know,” Lucy whispered. “I didn’t mean to.” Then, she asked, “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

Unlike before, Jackson didn’t hesitate to answer.

“I don’t know, Lucy,” he replied, his voice soft. “I really don’t know.”

~

Lucy would never have guessed the turn the day would take. She certainly didn’t anticipate ending up here, in a hospital bed, wearing a shapeless, itchy white-and-blue polka dot gown. Her results had returned, with the initial test showing no signs of hepatitis or HIV. Her bloodwork had been a little outside of normal parameters, indicating a staph infection at the point of entry. At the doctor’s suggestion, she would be kept overnight to receive intravenous antibiotics. The wound would be closely monitored for signs of infection and spread. Pending a clean blood test the next day, the doctor hoped to discharge her the following afternoon.

Tim returned in plainclothes just as a nurse arrived to start her on an IV.

“What happened,” he asked as he entered the room, his brow furrowed with concern. “You said you’d call me.”

“Yeah, if I needed you,” she replied, recalling their last conversation verbatim. “Unless you can insert an IV, I think this is outside your area of expertise,” she said as she gestured to the needle on its way into the vein on top of her left hand. “It’s just a staph infection. I should be okay.”

“Should be?”

“I have to stay the night for observation.”

Tim turned to the nurse and asked, “Is that standard?”

The nurse nodded. “It is for dirty needles,” she replied, “but she should only need to stay until sometime tomorrow.”

He waited until after the nurse had finished and left the room before dragging a chair to her bedside and sitting beside her.

“I hate hospitals,” Tim said after a moment.

“I think everyone hates hospitals,” Lucy replied, “but it does feel like we’ve seen a lot of them lately.” Between him and then Isabel getting shot, and now this, she’d had enough of hospitals to last her a year or more.

“How are you feeling?”

She looked at the catheter in her hand and was tempted to pick at the tape that held it in place. “Well, I think I’m over needles for the day,” she said drily, “but my bloodwork came back clear of HIV and hepatitis, so all in all, I’m relieved.”

“Yeah. That’s,” he breathed out, “that’s good.”

She looked at him with a soft smile. “I know you were worried.”

He didn’t deny it. “Of course I was worried.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t act it.”

“So?”

“So? You don’t have to do that with me.” She parroted his own words to him with a chuckle. “You know, pretend? Lie?”

He looked away. “It wouldn’t have done you any good for both of us to be scared. Someone had to stay calm.”

“And that someone is you?”

At her question, his lips lifted in the corners; a tired half-smile. “Usually.”

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Figuring it was either the doctor or another nurse, Lucy answered by calling, “Come in.”

It was not a nurse, nor was it a doctor. To her astonishment, Cam opened the door.

She was unprepared for the shock of seeing him after a month of no contact and shot upright in the bed as she whispered, “Hey.”

He smiled at her, but it wasn’t full. Rather, it was guarded, and hesitant, and the distance time had formed between them remained intact even as he greeted her with a gentle, “Hey, babe.”

Tim was on his feet within seconds of Cam entering the room, and glanced between the couple, looking first at Lucy, then at her boyfriend. She was powerless to stop the exchange that came next. He extended one hand toward Cam.

“You must be Lucy’s boyfriend. I’m Tim, her TO.” He did not sound or seem particularly impressed by the other man, but she figured that was probably just him being protective. After all, this was the same guy who’d wanted to run a background check on him before their second date.

Cam cast a knowing look at Lucy before taking Tim’s hand. “Cam Wellings. I’ve heard a lot about you, Tim.” She could tell by the edge in his voice that the comment was aimed at her. The dig landed, and Lucy winced.

“That’s weird,” Tim replied with discernible snark. “Lucy’s normally so tight-lipped. I’ve heard almost nothing about you.”

She was moved to intervene before a squabble could occur. “Bradford,” she interjected, and if his slight side-eye as he looked her way was any indication, he didn’t take kindly to her choosing to call him by his last name at that moment. “I’m starving. Do you mind going to that diner and grabbing me a veggie burger? Extra pickles?”

“The one on Melrose?”

“Ew, really? No. The other one. The good one.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re going to make me drive thirty minutes for a veggie burger?” She only needed pout a little for him to acquiesce. “Fine.” He looked at Cam, acknowledging him once more before leaving. “Uh, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You, too.” Cam waited to turn to Lucy again until Tim left, availing himself to the now vacant chair at her bedside. “So… that’s Tim.”

She nodded slowly. “That’s him.”

“I thought he’d be older.”

She could understand why he’d think that; all descriptions of her TO came off as cranky and cantankerous, more in-line with a late middle-aged man than one in his thirties. “He’s got some old man qualities, I guess.”

Cam did not laugh at her joke. Instead, he asked, “You didn’t think to call me?”

She hadn’t been expecting such a question, so her reply came out mumbled and uncertain. “You said you wanted space.”

“And you think that ‘needing space’ equals me not wanting to know you’re in the hospital?” he huffed. “Who called Tim?”

“He was there when it happened.”

The revelation appeared to pain him. “Of course he was. And I’m guessing he’s been here the whole time.”

“Not all of it,” she corrected, but did not offer further explanation beyond that. The last thing she wanted was to cause him more grief by revealing details. He did not need to know that Tim had stayed by her side while her blood was taken. He did not need to know that he’d comforted her when she admitted to being scared. Such revelations would most likely only hurt him, and she wanted to avoid that if she could.

It was evident he had more to say, plain by the way his shifted in his seat and leaned forward to take her hand. He gently ran one finger over the tape holding the IV in place.

“I guess Jackson called you, didn’t he?”

“He figured I’d want to know,” he admitted. “I think he thought you’d want to see me.” His face hardened as he said, “He probably didn’t realize you were already being taken care of by another man.” He tried to let go of her hand then, but her grasp tightened, holding him in place. “I should probably go,” he continued.

“Stay,” she pleaded.

“Lucy, I can’t. I…” he struggled for words. “I don’t want to have this conversation this way.”

“What conversation?” He still didn’t say, so she asked again more emphatically, “Cam? What conversation?”

He hesitantly met her gaze. “I spent the last few weeks trying to forgive you, and I think I have.” She was relieved and prematurely reached for him, but he stopped her. “I’m not finished. I forgive you for lying to me, but I can’t be with you unless you can make me a promise.”

Anxious to make amends, she asked, “What is it?”

“Can you promise that you won’t leave me for him?”

Her mouth fell agape, speechless. He couldn’t be serious, and yet she knew with a look that he was, She would never have thought him capable of asking for such a thing, but he’d made the the audacious request in earnest and expected an answer. “Cam…”

“Can you?”

“Why?” she wondered. “What would promising that do?”

He was undeterred by her question. “I don’t have a soulmate, Lucy. You knew that at the start. I don’t have a soulmate and I’ll never be yours, but that doesn’t mean this is a fling to me, okay? I don’t know the future either, but I think I could have one with you. Hell, even after everything, I _want_ to have one with you. I think we’re great together. Don’t you?”

“Yes, but-”

“No, Lucy. No buts.” He raked one hand over his face and muttered, “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this.” Then, after he took a deep breath, Cam asked, “Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Please, just answer. It’s embarrassing enough to have to ask.”

The simple truth was no. She was attracted to him. She enjoyed his company, and she cared about him, but none of those things had yet evolved into love. It broke her heart to disappoint him.

“I don’t know,” was her response. It was a measured answer, a hedged one; far better than an outright “no”, and it left her the room to add, “I could one day.”

The question that followed knocked the breath from her lungs. “Do you love Tim?”

She did not respond but hid the answer in her heart, an echo of what she’d said to him.

_I don’t know. I could one day._

“Cam,” she whispered, “I can’t make that kind of promise. Not to you, not to anyone. Not yet.” Her eyes began to water, and although she tried to blink away tears, a few still coursed down her face. “If you can just give me more time-”

He cut her off with a shake of his head.

“I can’t do that, Lucy. I won’t. I’m not going to wait for years hoping I’m the one you choose, and I refuse to be your consolation prize. I deserve better than that. So, I’m sorry but it’s this. It’s now or not at all. It’s me…” he hesitated, then said with finality, “or it’s him.”

_Him._

It was less a conscious choice than an impulse; an instinct. Lucy felt no alarm at how quickly she came to her decision. How could she have been so foolish as to think it wouldn’t come to this? How naive, and how ashamed she felt now. She’d been kidding herself by pretending any other outcome was possible.

No one had a say in when a timer went off. No one got to pick their soulmates. She’d said as much to Tim shortly after they met, but at the present moment, she had decided. Purposely and intentionally, knowing all the baggage that came with it, she chose Tim. Perhaps she always would. Maybe one day, she would pick differently, but here and now, there was no other choice.

She cared too much for Cam to say any of this aloud. Total transparency would only add insult to injury, and she had already hurt him so much. Instead, Lucy whispered, “I’m sorry, Cam,” knowing he would take it as confirmation; both of her pick, and of the end of their relationship.

A tear slid down his cheek as he rose to his feet, nodding that he understood. He would not try to convince her otherwise, and for that she was glad. “I’m sorry, too.” He pressed one last kiss to her knuckles, his lips warm against her skin. The gesture caused new tears to cloud her vision. He did not say another word. She watched him leave through a blurry gaze and did not know whether he looked back. Lucy hoped he didn’t. For his sake and hers, she hoped he didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the events of The Rookie 1x11, "Redwood".  
> I was super pleased with how this came together, but I do feel horrible for Lucy and Cam. Good thing the next chapter covers The Rookie's Valentine's Day episode ;)  
> I'm sorry if anyone was disappointed by the exclusion of the scene between Jackson and Lucy in the waiting room. The chapter was already so packed, including it felt superfluous since it doesn't move this particular story forward.  
> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought of this update!  
> <3 Suz


	17. Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sooner or later  
> It all comes apart  
> The walls are all shattered  
> I'm back at the start  
> And I'm willing to follow this  
> Wherever it goes  
> The heart has its reasons that  
> Nobody knows"  
> \- "Fall On Me", A Great Big World

Lucy managed to keep most of her tears at bay until after Cam left, only allowing herself to feel the full weight of the heartache once she was certain he was gone for good. Left alone, she cried, but not for long and not very hard. She was simply too tired for more. The day had been long and anxiety-riddled, filled with troubles entirely separate from their breakup. Her tears fell slowly and silently, and most had dried by the time the nurse came to check on her twenty minutes later.

She took one look at her patient’s wet, red-rimmed eyes, and tutted sympathetically. “Oh, dear. Are you in pain? Antibiotics this strong can sometimes cause adverse reactions. I was hoping you’d get lucky.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, it’s not that.” The eagle-eyed nurse did not seem convinced. “I think I’m just tired. It’s been a really long day.” 

Although she still eyed her warily, this reasoning seemed to mollify the nurse, who nodded. “Maybe you should rest then. Want me to help you get your hair down? Might make it easier to sleep.”

The task would’ve been difficult with one hand hooked up to an IV, so Lucy was glad for the help.The nurse made quick work of her hairband and pins, setting them in a pile on the nightstand before shaking the resulting waves out gently with her fingers. Lucy would’ve loved a shower, but settled for brushing it through carefully with a thin, hospital-issued comb. Once she was certain she was comfortable, the nurse left, hitting the lights on her way out. In the newly dark room, the fatigue of the day caught up to her. Lulled by the drip of her IV and the ambient din outside her room, Lucy quickly fell asleep.

It couldn’t have been long before she was roused by the sound of the the door opening with a muted creak. The noise was enough to disturb her, but not enough to pull her entirely out of sleep. Suspended in the space between waking and dreaming, she heard the shuffle of footsteps coming near her bed, followed by a soft laugh.

“Damn it, Lucy,” Tim whispered, followed by a rustling sound. There was silence for a moment or two, then she felt fingers lightly card through her hair. His touch was soft and warm, but it didn’t linger. The caress lasted only long enough for him to brush one lock of hair behind her ear, and then he withdrew.

She opened her eyes just in time to see the door close behind him. Her dinner was on the end table.

~

As planned, Lucy was released from the hospital the following day around lunch time. She received the news with notable relief. After the day she’d had, _something_ going according to plan felt almost miraculous. The nurse that oversaw her discharge handed her a week’s worth of amoxicillin, along with strict instructions to clean the puncture wound carefully with antimicrobial soap for the next few days. She would be sure to heed the verbal instructions, and read over the other notes while she waited for her Uber to arrive and take her back to the station. Her car was still at the precinct from the day before, as were her clothes, and she planned to retrieve both before going home.

She arrived at the station a little after one. Being that she’d had no other clothes and had not sent anyone to retrieve a new set during her brief hospital stay, she’d had no choice but to wear yesterday’s uniform. As she walked through the lobby, she was spotted by Tim almost immediately.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside her as she walked towards the locker room. “What are you doing here? When did you get out of the hospital?”

“Just a little bit ago,” she replied. “Wanted to get my things and my car before I head home.”

“Your car is still here?” he asked. “How’d you get here, then?”

“I took an uber.”

His face fell with visible disappointment. “You could’ve called me, you know.”

She shrugged and tried to sound nonchalant as she replied, “I knew that you were working today, and honestly, you did enough for me yesterday.” It wasn’t that she believed that there was a limit to the favors he would d do for her, but she also wanted to be mindful not to push it. Things between them were finally going well again; the last thing she wanted was to overextend his goodwill by asking for too much, or asking too often.

Her explanation did not appease him, but he merely muttered an unimpressed “Whatever,” in response. Having decided to let the topic drop for the time being, he continued in a different vein. “I talked to my neighbor about your car. Want to come by my place tonight so he can tinker with it?”

“Oh,” she began, a little uncertain. She’d just tried to put space between favors, and yet here he was offering another. “I didn’t expect him to be available so quickly.”

“Would you rather it stay broken?”

“No, no. Tonight is great.”

“Okay. My shift ends at five. Meet at my place at six?”

“Sounds good.”

“Good.” He said, then motioned toward the locker room. “Better get going before someone spots you in uniform and tries to make you work.” Then, he added gently, “And, uh… take it easy today, okay Boot?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, then hurried off.

~

Tim was waiting in the drive when Lucy pulled up. He was talking with another man, a shorter gentleman who appeared to be in his early sixties. Both waved as she rolled into the driveway. As Lucy got out of her car, Tim introduced the two. The neighbor’s name was Dennis. He used to work in the motor pool of the LAPD, Tim said, and had retired just a few years ago. Now he worked on cars as a hobby, occasionally taking on paying jobs to supplement his pension.

“Going to need to see what’s broken before I know how to fix it,” he said to her as she turned over the keys to him. “You kids go on ahead inside and relax. I’ll holler if I need anything.”

To pass the time while Dennis worked on her car, they watched a movie. Well, they tried to, at least. They spent a good portion of the evening arguing over which movie to watch. Between Tim’s streaming accounts and his BluRay collection, there were plenty of options for one particular genre of movie: action. Lucy didn’t hate action movies, but she liked them less the longer she worked as a cop. Shootouts and car chases had lost a lot of their entertainment value after she’d lived through a few herself. For every one of his suggestions, she’d counter with something else. A few light-hearted jokes about his general taste in films were made, leading to him to defend his choices with debate-level intensity. It was almost an hour before they landed on “The Princess Bride”, and even then, it took some coercing on Lucy’s part to get Tim to agree.

He put the disc in the Blu-Ray player and shot her a pointed look over his shoulder as the tray slid shut, pretending like what he’d agreed to caused him some silent pain. Lucy, for her part, was pleased to the point of giddiness at having won even this inch with him. As soon as he sat down beside her, she pulled out her phone and opened the camera.

“Hey Bradford,” she said. He looked up, eyes widening when he noticed his mirrored image on the screen in her hand. “Smile.” She snapped the picture a second later.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a frown.

“Commemorating a moment,” she answered as she looked at the picture. She’d chosen to sit on the couch and half-expected Tim to pick a seat farther away, but he’d decided to take a space close enough that getting them both in the picture was not difficult.

“You ‘commemorate’ most movie nights?”

“No, but I just got Tim Bradford to give me my way,” she remarked with a smirk. “That’s nothing short of historical.”

He glared at her, but the hint of a smile in his eyes betrayed him. “I did _not_ give you your way.”

She gestured emphatically towards the television. “Are we, or are we not watching the movie I picked?” He stammered over an incomplete answer, but she shushed him with a final, “I thought so.”

They had only made it fifteen minutes into the movie when Dennis knocked on the door.  
“Think I’ve got her all fixed up, miss,” he said while wiping his greased hands onto a handkerchief he had pulled from his back pocket.

Tim stood to his feet first. “I was hoping for a little bit more than a ‘think’ here, Dennis,” he replied with a smirk.

Dennis dismissed his concerns with a chortle. “Well, I wasn’t talking to you, Bradford.” He tossed the keys Lucy’s way, and she caught them with one hand. “Didn’t need new parts, just a little help under the hood. Should run fine, but if you start having problems again, have Bradford call me. Or better yet,” he nudged Tim with one elbow, “get her a better car, why don’t you?” He saw himself out after that, leaving Tim with an amused look on his face, and Lucy briefly confused.

“Wait! I need to pay him,” she exclaimed as she scrambled to her feet as she reached for her purse.

Tim stopped her. “It’s taken care of,” he said.

Her wallet in one hand, Lucy asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s taken care of, okay? Don’t make a big deal about it. Sit down.” Then he returned to his seat beside her on the sofa, picked up his beer, and turned the movie back on.

She fixed her eyes on the screen, but could barely focus as the three bandits ascended the perilous Cliffs of Insanity with the princess, the man in black trailing behind. She doubted Dennis had done the work for free. Hadn’t Tim said that he’d do the work cheaply?

“Did you pay him?” she asked, point blank.

He sighed. “I told you don’t make a big deal about it.”

She said no more, and he never confirmed it, but she knew.

Tim wouldn’t take much as thanks except, well, “thanks”. Like other evenings, they would probably never mention this night again, even though she stuck around long enough that they had pad thai delivered for dinner and ate on the floor of the living room while they finished the movie. It wasn’t discussed, and on the one hand, that was fine by Lucy. On the other, she couldn’t help but mull it over. Over the next few days, she took stock of the favors he’d done for her throughout the course of knowing each other, and was surprised to see they extended as far back as the beginning of her training when he paid for her lunch they day she’d run out of a diner to complete an arrest on foot. No wonder their attempts at boundaries had turned out weak and half-hearted. They were formed on grounds that had already been compromised.

~

On the thirteenth of February, Lucy backed out of plans for a night out with Jackson and Nolan, much to the disappointment of both of her friends. Although they tried to convince her to come out anyway, with Nolan going so far as to promise he’d cover all her drinks for the night, she was resolved on the matter.

“I’m going to get myself a bottle of wine, watch a Richard Chamberlain movie, and begin my slow descent into middle age and eventual oblivion,” she relayed with a tight smile.

Revealing her admittedly maudlin plans for the evening momentarily struck both men speechless. The silence was broken when Nolan mumbled, “Cheery”. Sure, it was out of character for her to sound so dour, but she had her reasons for being cranky. This time last year, Rachel had taken her out to celebrate it being her last Valentine’s season without her soulmate. Really, it was a sparsely-concealed excuse to go out partying, which was more Rachel’s taste than Lucy’s, but she went along for the night. Rachel had gone so far with celebrating as to make her wear a sash and tiara, and they blasted “I’ve Had The Time Of My Life” as they drove from bar to bar with the windows down.

Yet here she stood one year later, and none of her hopes from the last Valentine’s Day had materialized. After everything that had (and had not) happened, Lucy felt entitled to one good, long night of sulking and self-indulgence.

She changed into her pajamas the second she got home. By seven, she was sitting on her couch with a fresh box of pizza and a bottle of red wine, from which she poured herself a glass well beyond the suggested serving size. Then she started the night’s entertainment, her eyes welling instantly as she heard the familiar orchestral strains of the overture from “The Slipper and The Rose”. Before she was a full half-hour into the movie, her phone rang. She answered without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” She recognized the cheerful voice on the other end as Rachel.

“Hey, Rach.” Lucy didn’t pause the movie, but she did turn the volume down so she could hear her better.

“Hey! I know it’s last minute, but I was wondering if Cam could spare you for a girl’s night out tonight? I haven’t seen you in _forever_.”

She took a large gulp of her wine before speaking. “Yeah, probably. I mean,” her sarcastic chuckle came out a little watery, “he can spare me every night since we broke up.”

Rachel gasped, the sound sharp through the phone speaker. “Oh, Lucy! I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. It was the right thing for both of us.” She was certain of that.

“Well, do you want to come out anyway?” Rachel asked. “Do you feel up to that?”

Lucy sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she paused to think. She’d already washed her face and put on her pajamas. Getting ready to go out would be a whole thing, and she didn’t know if she had the energy for _things_ right now. “I don’t know Rach. I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

“… Are you watching that Cinderella movie with that guy from ‘The Thorn Birds’?”

“How did you know?”

“You’ve watched the same movie when you’re sad since we were roommates.” A beat followed, with the sounds of Rachel’s footsteps discernible. “I’m coming over. Don’t you dare drink another drop until I’m there.”

Her wine glass came to a stop at the edge of her lips. “… I’m not drinking,” she fibbed.

“Lucy.”

“Fine. Fine.” She set her glass aside with a pout. “I’m not drinking _now.”_

“Good. I’ll be there soon.”

Rachel must have left the second the phone call ended. She arrived at Lucy’s doorstep only ten minutes later. It was evident she’d expected Lucy to say yes to an impromptu night on the town, given that she was dressed for just such an occasion, donning a fitted black, long-sleeve dress and red heels.

Meeting her in her boxers and an old T-shirt with the “Friends” logo on it, Lucy felt a little schlubby by comparison.

“Hey, babe,” Rachel said mournfully after Lucy let her in. She didn’t make a big deal about Lucy’s state, just followed her back to the living room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not much to say,” Lucy whispered as she pressed reverse on the movie. She was on her fourth rewatch of the number featuring “Once I Was Loved”. An apt choice, if she said so herself. “It’s over.”

Rachel sighed. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t do a number on me,” she admitted.

“No?”

“No. _I_ did a number on me.” She explained it all, starting with the very beginning with Tim, and how she omitted the truth about her soulmate when she and Cam started dating, and ending with their breakup at the hospital. “I still don’t know why I didn’t just tell him the entire truth to begin with. Like, what was I thinking? I knew it was a bad idea. Everyone _told_ me it was a bad idea and I just… kept the lie up like it was nothing.”

Rachel just looked at her, unmoved and unconvinced by her rant. “Seriously, Lucy? Are you hearing yourself?” She scooted closer and reached for her hand. “You didn’t tell Cam about your soulmate because it was never about him. It was about _him_.”

“Which him?”

“The… other one? The soulmate one. Tim, you said?”

“But it wasn’t!” The second the words left her mouth, Lucy knew that was a knee-jerk reaction, and again, glossed over too much of the truth. Deciding to date had been a ploy on Lucy’s part; a method to get over her soulmate-related disappointment, one she now recognized as ill-advised and unfair. At its root, dating Cam could not be separated from her experiences with Tim. One had directly influenced the other, something she’d only realized with the benefit of hindsight. The more honest conclusion, which she whispered to Rachel, was, “I didn’t mean it to be.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that this happened sooner rather than later. I mean,” Rachel added, her nose wrinkling as she said, “Everything you’ve told me about Cam makes him sound kind of boring, anyway.”

Lucy became a tad defensive on her ex’s behalf. “He wasn’t boring. Look.” She pulled out her phone and brought up a picture of Cam. After showing one to Rachel, she swiped through a few candids they’d taken together while dating.

“Okay, so?” Rachel was still unimpressed. “I’ll admit that he’s hot. You can be attractive and dull as dirt.”

“It’s not just Cam,” she said with a sigh. For as much as she still felt guilty over how she’d treated him, she just as much felt sad for herself. Lonely, too, and neither feeling was easily addressed. Both were symptoms of a deeper issue she’d only recently begun to acknowledge. If she couldn’t promise Cam, who was a great match for her in every way but one, that Tim would not be an obstacle, to whom could she make that promise? “Maybe I should just be single forever.” Not a bad idea from where she currently stood with things. It wasn’t like life would have no meaning if she remained unattached. She had her career, her friends, and to some extent, Tim, although she held no expectations for the future in regards to him.

Rachel responded with a roll of her eyes. “That timer has made you a drama queen, which is exactly why I never got one,” she mumbled. Before Lucy could react with offense, she asked, “What if Cam didn’t ask you to make that promise, hm? Do you really think you would’vebeen able to make it work?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“I do. Sweeping ultimatums like that are no foundation for a relationship, no matter how justified they seem.”

Lucy nodded slowly before looking away. “You’re probably right.”

A few minutes passed where both women watched the movie in companionable silence. Richard Chamberlain’s Prince Edward danced around a mausoleum with a friend while Cinderella, not knowing on whom she spied, peered through the window. By the time the Fairy Godmother showed up, Rachel had kicked off her shoes. Lucy offered her a set of comfier clothes since her plan to go out had been thwarted and poured her a glass of wine. 

As they watched Cinderella ride to the ball, Rachel said, “So, tell me about Tim. What’s he like?”

“He’s…” she had to pause as she wondered what to say next. Nice? Depended on when. Funny? Sometimes, but that was because he possessed dry wit and good timing rather than jokes. She realized he sort of defied description. The more she learned about him, the less it seemed like she knew. The best she felt like she could do was, “He’s a lot. He acts tough because of the job, but that’s a mask. He’s kind of intense sometimes, but he’s…” After another moment to consider, she landed on one word that she felt informed all the pieces of him that she knew. “He’s good. He’s genuinely just a good man.” She chuckled to herself as she added, “And if he heard me say that, he’d probably deny it."

“Is he cute?”

At least that she could answer more directly. “Yea, he’s pretty cute, if you’re into blue eyes and biceps.”

“Show me.”

She pulled up the photo from their movie night and handed her phone to Rachel.

Her jaw dropped. A cross between a giggle and a gasp left her lips, and her eyes darted from the picture to Lucy, then back. “Um… are you familiar with the term ‘going from strength to strength’?” She handed the phone back while letting out a deep breath and laughing in something like disbelief. “Lucy. He’s kind of _gorgeous_.”

“I mean…” she took her phone back and looked at the picture for herself. Ignoring her own face, she focused on Tim’s, zooming in to see him better. She thought he’d neglected to smile when she snapped it, but no, there was a hint of one on his lips that she only noticed upon closer inspection. She had also managed to catch him at a pretty good angle and with decent light through the bay window. It made him look younger, brighter, and warm. And of course, his eyes; always with those bright blue eyes. She could see why Rachel would take one look and declare him _gorgeous._ “I guess so.”

“You _guess so_? First Cam, now Tim? Although, I guess it was Tim first, wasn’t it?” She batted Lucy’s arm playfully before reaching for her wine. “Damn, Lucy. You get all the luck.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” she replied with a joyless chuckle. “Lucky Lucy.” Lucky Lucy, newly single, with her soulmate married to someone else. _Gorgeous_ had been a fair assessment from Rachel; _lucky_ was not.

~

At her shift the next morning, Lucy was surprised to learn that Tim was taking a personal day. According to Angela, he never took personal time; hearing that only increased her level of concern. Being that she had no TO for the day, she was assigned to the front desk. While she walked towards her assignment, she sent Tim a quick text, just to check-in.

**_Heard you’re taking a personal day. Hope everything’s all right._ **

She almost regretted hitting send, afraid it would be seen as crossing a line, but her fears were proven unfounded when she saw his reply.

**_Everything’s fine. Just something I gotta do. Have a good day, Chen._ **

She replied, **_You too, Bradford._**

She expected to be bored by a day at the front desk, but soon found it was actually a welcome reprieve from the excitement. Sure, she would’ve hated to do it every day, but once in awhile wasn’t so bad. She got to receive and deliver a handful of fun Valentine’s Day arrangements sent from boyfriends and girlfriends to their partners working desk jobs in the station. Lucy felt a twinge remembering she’d get no flowers this year, but it quickly subsided without much effort on her part; a sign she was coping with her heartbreaks, or so she hoped. The highlight of her shift came when she called Nolan down to receive a gift basket from an admirer, and was mildly amused when he tried to back out of accepting it. The woman refused to take the basket with her, and he was left with an armful of goodies that Lucy would happily take off his hands if only he would offer.

“You wanna come to my little shindig tonight?” he asked as he offered her one of the blueberry muffins. “Should be fun. Lonely hearts only.”

“Might as well,” she said as she took the muffin from his open palm. “Not like I have anything else going on.”

“Oh, I’m so flattered,” he chuckled. “Any word from Tim?”

Lucy shook her head. “But you know, that’s not exactly surprising. He doesn’t tell me stuff.”

“Well, he tells you _some_ stuff, right?”

She didn’t even know enough to be sure that what little she knew qualified as “some”. “I think we’re in a good place, but there’s things he needs to keep to himself, and I get it.” She didn’t always like it, but she tried to understand. “I don’t blame him for holding back sometimes.” Especially not after seeing how forthcoming he had been in some of his most delicate and difficult moments. Just because she didn’t know everything didn’t mean he didn’t trust her.

Nolan left soon after that with his muffins, and she saw out the rest of her rather uninteresting shift with little thought to her training officer, and wherever he may be. She received and distributed four more gigantic bouquets by the time her workday drew to a close, and left to clock out and change around 5 o’clock.

She walked out to the parking lot and was stunned and a little relieved to find Tim leaning against the trunk of her car. He looked good. Tired, but good. Wherever he’d gone, whatever he’d done, he seemed okay, and that was a comfort to her.

“Everything okay?” she asked once she was closer.

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Or it will be.” He pushed off of her car so he could stand, and she noticed he was standing oddly with both hands behind his back. “I have a gift for you,” he said, then held out a bag to her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She couldn’t help but grin as she took the pink and white bag out of his hands. “You got me a Valentine’s present?”

Tim looked sheepish as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Sort of,” he said as she reached through the tissue paper. “It’s something you said you wanted. I’ll understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

She soon had the item free of the paper and set the bag aside on the trunk of her car before looking down at the rectangular object in her hands. It was a wooden frame, the perfect size for a 4x6 picture, and behind the pristine glass was the photograph they’d argued over in his house weeks ago. Lucy ran one finger down the sharp corner of the frame, a smile playing on her lips as she whispered, “Oh, Tim.” She looked at him, her breath catching as she found him watching her with a soft expression. “Are you sure you want me to have this?”

“Absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat. “Unless you don’t want it?” He pretended to reach for it, a replay of their argument from that night, and laughed when she held it close. “I thought so.”

She tapped her finger on the corner of the frame, worrying her bottom lip as she asked, “Where did you go today?” When he hesitated, she was quick to clarify. “I don’t need all the details, but… well, Angela mentioned in the briefing room that you never take personal days.”

A smile passed over his lips, but he fought it back, managing to school all but one corner into stoicism; the smile lines on the left side of his mouth betrayed him, as did the glimmer in his eye as he asked, “You worried about me, Chen?”

Well, duh. “Isn’t that obvious by now, Bradford? That’s what we do.” They worried about each other. They checked on each other. They cared for and took care of each other in varying degrees, circling this nebulous thing that neither of them could identify without approaching a level of vulnerability neither of them were yet ready for.

“I was seeing Isabel.”

Against her will and better judgment, Lucy deflated. “Oh.”

Seeing her reaction, Tim explained. “It was part of rehab. The healing process, or whatever. I’m not sure what they call it officially. You’d know better than me. But, um…” he hesitated, “it’s over.”

“Her rehab?”

“No. Our marriage.”

Her jaw fell open, slack and stunned as she tried to wrap her head around the news. “What do you mean? Why?”

He replied, “I needed to see her through this, and I did. She’s clean. She’s well on her way to recovery. I’ve done all I can. If I stick around now, I’m just a reminder of all the times she… failed.”

Her hand raised to touch his arm, attempting to offer comfort as she grasped him gently.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you love her.” Lucy was careful not to make the word _love_ past tense, not being so foolish as to think that the end of a relationship meant the absence of a feeling.

“Yeah,” he said with a short nod. “You’re right, but this is the right thing for both of us.” He stepped back, breaking her grasp “Um, but I won’t keep you. I’m sure you have plans with Cam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He began to walk away but only made it a few steps before Lucy called his name. She waited until he’d turned to face her before informing him, “Cam and I broke up a few days ago.” She didn’t feel the need to mention why, nor did she reveal exactly what had precipitated the break-up. Instead, she echoed what he’d said about his marriage coming to an end, words she’d said herself many times referring to the end of her relationship with Cam. “It was the right thing for both of us.”

Lucy watched his face as Tim took in this information, knowing that this instant, more than any since the day they’d met, was the heaviest and the most loaded. They stood only a few feet apart, but that distance -and the emotional, unseen one- no longer seemed insurmountable. She was here, and he was there, and they were one another’s long-awaited soulmates. Yes, there were hurdles and yes, there were complications, but at this second, none of that seemed to matter.

“Okay,” he whispered, a single word that felt like a promise.

“Okay,” she replied; and for that brief, shining moment in time, Lucy was certain they were inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably tell that things will start diverting from the canon more and more following this point while still keeping the general storylines of seasons 1 and 2. Tim and Lucy's relationship has developed enough by now that lines delivered verbatim from the show may have a different tone. I'm keeping everyone as in character as I can, but please remember that this is an AU, so some slight changes are unavoidable!  
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, left kudos, or otherwise encouraged this story, and a special thanks to Daisy (stargazerdaisy) who continues to be helpful and is just one of the best humans on the planet, period.  
> <3 Suz


	18. Too Ugly a Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If it doesn't break your heart,  
> It isn't love."  
> \- "Yet", Switchfoot

They parted ways not long after Tim had given her the gift. Beside “okay”, neither said another word before they walked to their individual cars, although a peek back in his direction showed that he’d been watching her go from over his shoulder, moving at a slow, unhurried shuffle the entire time. Lucy waited until his truck was no longer visible in her rearview mirror to pull out the picture frame and look it over one more time. She was still in disbelief that he’d given her a present, let alone one so thoughtful and transparently sentimental. She wondered what had prompted him to give it to her now after insisting on keeping it the night he first showed it to her. It couldn’t be that it no longer mattered to him. It had been significant enough for him to keep it safe for fourteen years. Not only safe, but readily accessible judging by how quickly he was able to leave her and return with it that night at his house. Perhaps it was a copy? She carefully removed the back and confirmed the humorous inscription about trash cans was still there. He’d given her the original, and although she was touched by the gift, she was left to only guess at why.

She decided to interpret it as an invitation; an open door, and hopefully the first of many. An important moment from his past was now literally in her hands. The picture itself represented the first time the roads of their lives had converged into a single lane. Him giving her the picture was another example of that. But this wasn’t just a moment of their lives, she thought, as she allowed herself to trace a circle around the face of his younger self; this was a piece of their history. Of their shared story.

Was it awful of her to wonder what would come next? Was it too soon, and therefore shameful to hope for the things she’d so far denied herself the chance to even dream about? Because she felt like the world had suddenly opened up in front of her with a simple gesture and a single word. Because what (and who) she wanted didn’t seem a distant fantasy now, but within her reach if still far off.

Because she had not been able to get his touch completely off her mind since the moment he’d held her in his arms.

Now, knowing what she knew, she almost greedily wished for more. What would it be like to really touch him? Not the passing contact that sometimes occurred during work, not by accident, but with intention; with affection, and with longing. What would it be like to finally hold him with no inhibitions? Her cheeks flushed as her mind wandered quickly, off on a detailed path of its own creation. She drove towards Nolan’s on autopilot as the daydreams she had so long held at bay were finally allowed to play freely through her mind. She arrived at the guest house with her cheeks flushed pink, and felt a little like she was floating as she walked towards the front door. She had to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek so that her grin didn’t give her away, afraid that Nolan would see her expression and ask her what had occurred to put such a dopey smile on her face. Their exchange in the parking garage was still too recent for her to discuss with others; she wanted to treasure it privately for a little while longer.

As for the images that filled her mind on the way over, well. Those were hers and hers alone.

She was welcomed into Nolan’s party with a hug and a cheer, then introduced to Ben, his friend-slash-landlord. She liked Ben instantly. He was a little wild, sure, and had a touch of boyish attitude that only a trust fund could buy, but was altogether a fun, friendly guy. Nolan had extended invitations to several of their coworkers, but so far none had showed. Not even Jackson, which surprised her, but when she texted him to ask where he was, he let her know he was on a date with a nurse he’d met that afternoon. Ben had invited a woman he met while picking up liquor. He had no sooner mentioned that fact when the doorbell rang and a woman joined them.

Her elation from earlier faded when Lucy noticed concern furrow Nolan’s brow. It took her a minute to place the face, but she finally realized that it was the same person who had dropped off a gift basket for Nolan earlier, while she was manning the front desk. Her name was Denise, and although she tried to play it off as a happy coincidence, the desperation in her face and tone was unmistakable and worrisome. Although Lucy had made a few offhand, joking comments out of her earshot to Nolan about his stalker, the night nearly took a tragic turn when Denise helped herself to his bedroom, removed her clothes, and took a few sleeping pills with a glass of champagne.

While Nolan called an ambulance, Lucy took on the task of maneuvering clothes back onto Denise’s body. It was difficult work; her limbs were rapidly going slack, making it hard to clothe her as her motor function decreased by the minute, and she drifted towards unconsciousness. Her breathing was deep and slow as the three of them carried her to the living room and laid her on the floor. Once more Lucy took the lead in caring for her. It was she who sat beside Denise and gently lifted her head onto her lap, then began to comb her fingers through her hair. Occasionally, she patted the sides of her face gently in an effort to keep her awake while they waited for help.

There was not much first aid any of them could safely administer for poisoning. Making her throw up could choke her, and it wasn’t like Nolan kept activated charcoal on hand to negate the absorption of the medicine. All any of them could do was try to keep her awake, and for her own peace of mind attempted to track her pulse. She picked up her left arm to feel for her heartbeat, but paused when she saw the timer on Denise’s wrist. It was a model like hers, a thin strip of acrylic with rounded edges. Instead of numbers, her screen showed dashes. The light it emitted was not green, but a faint yellow, indicating that the timer’s connection to another had at some point in the past been severed. Her heart sank in her chest as she understood at once why Denise had become attached to Nolan so quickly, and why she felt low enough to take her own life at his refusal of her advances. The woman in her arms was not suffering from the average heartbreak, nor was it mere loneliness that motivated her; in all likeliness, she was mourning for a soulmate that had either left her behind or worse.

The ambulance came quickly, and thank goodness for that. Neither they nor the paramedics could get a straight answer out of Denise about how many pills she’d taken. The small orange pill bottle was empty, but she’d only held up two fingers on either hand when Nolan had asked how many she’d ingested, so their best guess was between two and four sleep aids with alcohol. Survivable, but still scary. Nolan, ever the rescuer, wanted to accompany her, but both Lucy and Ben shot down the idea. Lucy went alone, following a safe distance behind the ambulance as it sped toward Shaw Memorial.

She checked in with the ER reception after arrival and introduced herself as an off-duty officer accompanying Denise, then asked if any next of kin were on record that could be notified. Her closest relative was in Santa Barbara, a sister named Sam. Santa Barbara being almost two hours away, it would be awhile before she could make it to the hospital. She asked Lucy whether she could stay until she made it.

She hesitated only briefly. Even though she really would rather have gone home, sympathy overrode the urge, and she agreed.

Within the hour, the nurse at reception informed her that Denise was stable and would make it through, although they would hold her for twenty-four hours for her safety. That was standard, she knew, and not just because this was a near-miss overdose. It qualified as a suicide attempt, so for her safety she would be monitored a full twenty-four hours before being released into her sister’s care. She asked to visit and was allowed back into the triage, where Denise was awake. Awake, but still pretty drowsy, and receiving a slow but steady drip of fluids through an IV. She managed a weak smile when Lucy came into view.

“Officer Chen,” she said. Her voice sounded thin and raspy now, not nearly so full and emotive as it had been at Nolan’s. “I guess I have two heroes today. Lucky me.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not expecting muffins,” she replied as she pulled up a chair to Denise’s bedside. Then, she asked simply, “How do you feel?”

It was a second or two before she responded. “I’m okay. A little embarrassed, but okay.”

“Good. That’s good.” More than good; it was a relief. “Front desk and I got in touch with your sister. She’s on her way into town, but it’ll be awhile before she gets here. She asked me to keep an eye on you.” When she tensed, Lucy quickly added, “If that’s okay.”

Denise nodded curtly, but still remained rigid with her fists clenched at her sides. Soon, her eyes were glassy with tears. “Sorry,” she said through a single, choking sob. “I just… I haven’t seen her since the funeral.”

“… Is there someone else you want me to call instead?”

“No, no,” she replied, then added, “There’s no one else. It’s just us.” Her gaze traveled the room, apparently intent on looking anywhere but Lucy’s eyes. Eventually, she fixated on the IV and began to pick at the tape that held the needle in place. Lucy watched her carefully, but saw that it wasn’t an attempt to remove the IV; it was a closer to a tic, displaced stress or anxiety manifesting in the form of a mannerism. “Do you have a soulmate, Officer Chen?”

The question caught her off-guard; although, given what she’d so far surmised about Denise’s circumstance, maybe it shouldn’t have. She took a deep, fortifying breath before answering, “I do.”

Her lips pursed as she asked, “What would you do if they died?”

She didn’t know. She’d never thought about it before.

Well, no. That wasn’t quite true, was it? She’d considered it once, but only briefly. It had crossed her mind during her second day on patrol… the day that Tim had gotten shot through his side. Distance from the actual shooting had not dulled her recollection of it at all. She remembered only too vividly and could recall in excruciating detail the sound of the gunshots and the smell of hot metal, not far removed from the pungent scent of blood as she bent over Tim after the bullet had gone through him. She had pressed her palm against his gunshot wound as he groaned and ordered her to go. She felt as his pulse grew rapid beneath her hand as a result of his pain level and the sudden surge of adrenaline in his veins. His blood pumped against her skin with every one of his heartbeats, slipping between her fingers in red rivulets as bile rose in the back of her throat. Even now, sitting in a hospital room and removed from the shooting by several months, a cold chill ran upwards from the base of Lucy’s spine. She had not thought about it since the day it happened, and it was an experience she did not wish to recall often. Living it had made her vomit. Remembering it made her feel equally ill. If Tim had not survived, her trauma would’ve been compounded, multiplied to an unnamable degree. Although Denise surely deserved an answer, Lucy had none, and so said nothing in response.

Tears streamed from the corners of Denise’s eyes as she looked skyward. They streaked down her temples and landing on the white cotton pillowcase beneath her head as she spoke again. “I was getting my hair done when my timer turned to dashes. Isn’t that the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever heard?” she asked with a sad chuckle. “Paul was overseas, six months into a nine month deployment, and there I was in the middle of getting a full head of foils, and I just… I just started sobbing in the middle of the salon, because I knew he was dead. No one had any clue what happened. People thought I was out of my mind. Having some sort of breakdown, or something.”

Her soulmate had died; killed in action. Lucy had guessed as much at Nolan’s house, deducing all but the details, but that did not soften the blow of knowing for certain. “I’m so sorry, Denise,” she whispered.

“They don’t tell you about that when you get your timer,” she continued, moving on with her story as if Lucy had not said a word; as if Lucy were not even _there_. “They don’t tell you that if the worst happens, you’ll know the second it does. No one warns you. No one prepares you. It’s too ugly a truth to put in the brochure, I guess.” Her hand moved from absently picking at the tape to run one finger absently over the blank timer on her left wrist. “And you don’t even get to keep the zeroes to remind yourself that you once were loved.” She fell silent then, and before long, Denise’s eyes slipped closed once more. Not with sleep, but from grief. 

Her own hand reached out, mirroring Denise’s movement to touch her timer. Instead of acrylic, her fingertips met with the leather strap of Nolan’s watch. Beneath it, she knew her timer was glowing green and showing zeroes. Her heart ached for Denise in her mourning, but even though she sympathized, it was a pain she personally could not begin to fathom. Perhaps could not was less accurate than would not. The idea of losing Tim, or the horror of being able to pinpoint the moment it happened… Maybe it was superstition on her part, but Lucy refused to envision it. She would not even dare.

~

She stayed at the hospital until Denise’s sister arrived. By then, she had fallen asleep. Lucy felt drowsy too, but the chairs in the ER triage were less forgiving than even those in the waiting room, so she stayed awake, if not completely alert. Eventually, a young woman entered the room. She appeared to be in her early twenties, if not younger, and sported a platinum blonde pixie cut, the fringe of which nearly obscured hazel eyes that were identical to Denise’s both in shape and expressiveness.

“Officer Chen?” Sam asked, looking Lucy over once with a scrutinizing glare and a wrinkled nose. “You sure don’t look like a cop.”

“I’m off-duty,” she replied as she rose to her feet. “Your sister was at a party a friend of mine was holding when she snuck away with a handful of sleeping pills,” she explained. “We caught it early. She should be okay.”

Sam looked at her sister, then back at Lucy before nodding. “Um, do I… I don’t know what happens now. Is this a police thing? Am I going to be subpoenaed or some shit?”

“No. Nothing like that. She didn’t do anything illegal. She’s just… hurting.” Lucy looked back at Denise. Her face appeared so untroubled when she slept, almost peaceful. It gave her hope for the woman’s future, if only she could get the help she both needed and deserved. “Just be there for her. Help her, and if you can, get her therapy.”

Sam’s lower lip quivered as she nodded. “How bad was it?”

Lucy didn’t know how much to say merely because she wanted to leave Denise her dignity; it wasn’t really her story to tell, and how much she shared and when should have been up to her. “She got lucky,” was the reply she settled on before she reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of her business cards. “Look, I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping here, but I know you’re a few hours away. If you’re ever worried about her and need someone to check on her fast,” she handed her one of the cards, “call me directly.”

Sam sniffled a little as she looked at the card. “Didn’t think cops made that kind of house call,” she said, then stuck the card into the side pocket of her black leather backpack. “No offense, officer, but I hope you never hear from me again.”

On the surface it looked like an insult, but Lucy understood the spirit in which it was said; to be honest, she couldn’t agree more.

~

It was after eleven by the time she pulled out of the hospital parking lot and finally, _finally_ headed home. The day had taken her across the spectrum of emotions at a speed that could be considered breakneck. She’d peaked with Tim before being plunged to the depths of loss with Denise, and in the meantime seemed to experience every bliss and agony in-between. As she steered towards her apartment, she wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower to clear her head and calm her nerves before climbing into bed.

Coming home to find a notice of eviction taped to her door was not a great feeling; speaking strictly about her own experience, it was the shittiest possible turn the day could have taken. Lucy ripped the note off the door and crumpled it, un-crumpled it, then crumpled it again as she stood in her darkened living room before casting the paper aside without giving a care where it landed. She showered then, but it did not relax her half as much as she’d hoped, and unfortunately the rest of the night was equally restless. She tossed and turned throughout. Some of her mind was occupied with worries over finding a new apartment. Another part thought about Denise, her husband, and her loss. She was haunted by the helpless stare of her much younger sister, and prayed that Sam would call if help was needed, no matter what she had said at the hospital. Those thoughts alone should have taken up all her attention, but no; still another corner dedicated itself to obsessing over the way her relationship with Tim had once again changed, progressing in a direction she had previously thought impossible.

The day had started off so mild and ordinary. Now, her insides were turning knots, weaving a web that couldn’t be untangled over the course of a single night. When she rose with the sunrise, Lucy did not remember having slept at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the end of 1x12, "Heartbreak".  
> I know this update was kind of a downer, but it’s relevant for what comes later so I hope you’ll bear with me; it's still not all sunshine and rainbows for our faves just yet.  
> I’ll own that this one was pretty light on Tim, but that’s on purpose, too. Even though this is a Chenford story, it’s all from Lucy’s perspective and consequently her viewpoint is my priority. If you’re more a Tim fan, don’t worry; I may have something coming down the pike for you too. ;)  
> Denise’s younger sister Sam (an OC) is based off my older sister to some extent, and is far more developed in my brain than on the page. Everyone should be so lucky as to have a “Sam”; I know I sure as hell am.  
> I've changed my URL on tumblr, so you can now find me under inthemovingcastle.tumblr.com . Since this chapter was quite a bit shorter than previous ones, I'll be posting a preview of the next update there tomorrow.  
> Thank you everyone who has read, reviewed, left kudos, or otherwise encouraged this story!  
> <3 Suz


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